Wolves of the World
by Animetronic
Summary: After getting angry at the Axis at an emergency world meeting, England decides the best way to get revenge is by cursing them, but he'll need to make a deal with Romania first. As the moon becomes fuller, the Axis finds themselves having many weird and strange experiences. What is going on? And just what does Romania want exactly? Rated T for Romano's out of control mouth.
1. Anger management

**Hey, Animetronic here! This is my first fic I have posted, so please let me know what you think! I'd also like to thank Syntax-N for Beta-reading and editing the entire story. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The gloomy daylight of an autumn afternoon streamed through one of the tall windows in the old meeting hall. England shuffled his shoes in annoyance as the G8 meeting droned on and on. Germany had declared there would be an emergency meeting a few days before, completely crushing England's plans to try and beat Scotland at croquet that weekend.

The hall was also buzzing with anticipation, albeit for all the wrong reasons. Halloween was right around the corner, and America was especially excited. He babbled like a child about how, with France's assistance, he would finally scare England once and for all.

"Dude, we should so have, like, aliens abduct him as he walks home and hypnotize him to squawk like a chicken."

France gave his signature messing-with-England smirk. "Il est très méchant, but that is a little unfeasible, don't you think?" (He is very mean)

"Perfectly feasible, dude! I'll ask Tony to do it. I can already see Old Man Arts clucking." America slunk down in his seat chuckling to himself.

"I will curse England, da?" Russia let off an unsettling presence, and France shifted his chair a few spaces away from him.

"You do realize I can hear all of these plans from where I'm sitting? If I know what's to happen, it certainly won't be scary when it does," England tutted.

"Enough with Halloween. Japan, please come share your invention with us." Germany gestured to Japan to come up. Japan connected his laptop to the projector and displayed a slide show. There were a graph and a picture of a small fan clipped to some chopsticks.

"I have been working day and night to invent a fan you clip to your utensils to cool down your meal. You will never burn yourself on the tongue again." Japan took out a real version of the small, funny-looking fan and clipped it on his chopsticks. He then took out his lunch and started eating.

Italy pranced around the room asking if the fan would work on pasta and muttering sweet 'vehs' in England's ear. The fact that England had to get up early and missed his chance to finally beat Scotland pissed him off enough. Now the meeting wasn't a genuine emergency, but an invention showcase. This was England's last straw, and Italy pushed him over the edge.

"Germany, get this pasta-loving git away from me!" England snapped in Italy's face.

Instantly, his demeanor changed. He threw himself away from England to hide behind his favorite sausage-grease-and-hair-gel-smelling pillar of a man, Germany. "Germany, Germany! Signor Inghilterra is calling me names!" (Mr. England)

"You should never speak to a fellow country like that. I thought by now we could've learned at least something about civility," Germany snarled, a look of disgust distorting his already-cross features.

"I'm sick and bloody tired of you calling 'emergency meetings' for these!" England pointed to Japan's presentation. "This is the third time in a month, you know. I can't drop everything and go to your place in a heartbeat all willy-nilly."

"Angleterre, please calm down. I'm sure Germany had a reason to summon us." France placed a hand on England's shoulder and squeezed. England whipped his head around and quickly drew his wand from his pocket.

"Come off it. You don't want to get cursed again, do you?" He held the wand to France's chest in a threatening manner.

"Non, non, non, what I meant to say was that I don't like these meetings either." France held his arms up in defense and shook his head. England produced a devilish smirk. It was a rare occasion when he could back the high and mighty France into a corner as such.

"Dude, don't tell me you're afraid of England's toy!" America cackled. Without any further regards to the meeting, he propped his feet on the table in the middle, leaning his chair back on two legs.

"It's not a toy, America. It's a wand!" England shouted and slammed his fists on the table in his rage. America lost his balance and fell out of his seat.

"England, that is enough! Sit down and listen!" Germany bellowed.

"Why should I listen to you? How do I know you're not going to… to weasel your way out of another agreement!?" England glared at Germany right in the eyes, and the room went silent.

"What did I just say about maintaining peace and civility!?" Germany shot back.

"Iggy, cut it out." America stepped between the two, trying to break up the fight.

"I will not, America, so get out of my way!" England shoved America to the side, knocking him into Japan. His miso soup went flying over America's head and spilled all over England. He spat it out and looked at his clothes.

"You ruined my favorite shirt!" He shouted at Japan.

"I did not. You shoved America-san into me." Japan took cover behind Germany.

Feeling cornered, he shouted at everyone. "Fine, have it your way! But I must warn you, never anger a wizard, or he'll make your life a living nightmare!" England stormed out of the meeting room and slammed the door behind him.

"Oh dear, he's in a mood again, Mr. Kumakichi."

"Who are you?" The bear asked.

"I'm Canada!"

* * *

"Those bloody gits, always acting so innocent," England cursed under his breath as he stormed down the hall. He fumbled for his wand and muttered a spell to teleport him in a flash of white light. Seychelles noticed it and stuck her head out of her meeting room.

"Huh, what was that?" she thought to herself.

"Seychelles, it's not lunch. Can you please sit back down?" South Africa called from inside.

"Coming!" Seychelles looked around the hallway for the source. She lost interest and closed the door with a sigh.

* * *

Meanwhile, a bright light flashed amidst the silence of the Siberian tundra. England came tumbling out of it, landing face first into the powdery snow. The bitter, ice-cold wind nipped at his skin.

"Ugh, where am I? I can never get that bloody teleportation spell right!" England sat up and shook the snow out of his hair and clothes. He dug in the snow around him before a moving shape in the distance caught his eye. Soon that shape moved closer, splitting into three separate forms. The biggest growled at him. "Wolves," England whispered.

They circled him, the biggest stalking and staring at him. Behind him, the second largest happily trotted along and the smallest walked with his head down. England overturned the snow, trying to find his wand. The biggest noticed this and got down on his legs, readying for a pounce.

As England found his wand, the wolf leapt and flew over England. He was so close to the beast that he managed to rip a piece of matted, blond fur off its pelt. As the second one went in for a pounce, England closed his fingers around his wand and teleported. The medium-sized wolf landed in the snow, headfirst. After a bit of sniffing around, the pack got bored and wandered off into the tundra.

* * *

England reappeared in his basement wet, shivering, and reeking of miso. He turned on the light and looked at the clump of hair he had pulled off the wolf.

"I've been needing to restock this for a while." He put the fur in a small jar among the other curious oddities resting on the shelves. England looked at the jar, remembering how each of the wolves walked. "Huh, what a coincidence. I never thought I'd come across animals that behaved like the Axis."

Then the idea hit him square in the face. "That's it! I will curse them, and they'll experience the same humiliation I felt! Oh, why hadn't I thought of this during the world wars? Too busy tending to that star stuck in my head, I suppose."

England smirked and walked over to his bookshelf, skimming the spines of each ancient book until he found the right one. He flipped through until he got to the correct page, or so he thought. The page he needed was missing, and clumps of paper where the page hadn't ripped properly were visible. Only two other countries were proficient in magic, and out of those two, Norway would've taken the whole book, so the only other person could be…

"Romania! What the bloody hell did you do to my book!?" England shouted.

"Heh, I was waiting until you were going to curse someone again." Romania's voice echoed around the cobblestone room. England glanced around, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. He looked back at the bookcase and found two ruby red eyes staring back at him where the book was.

"Gah!" England stumbled back, startled. Romania emerged from the shadows, laughing.

"Oh my, that was hilarious." He brushed a tear away. "I've always wanted to do that. Also, have you taken a bath lately? You smell like Japan's lunch."

"Oh, sod off. What did you do to the bloody spell?" England asked, his arms crossed and his foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

"It's right here, of course. I needed to take it before you started cursing other nations. We don't want the entire European Union suddenly growing tails now, do we?" Romania rummaged around in his coat pocket and took out the yellowing piece of paper.

"I would never do that. We both know it would take an immense amount of power to fuel more than four at once."

"You know I was just joking." Romania smiled.

"Can you please give me the spell now?"

England lunged at Romania, trying to take the sheet, but with a flick of his wrist, it hovered slightly out of England's reach. "No, no, no," Romania clicked his tongue on his fangs. "I can't give it to you. I need to make sure you have enough antidote."

"You know I already have it." England took out a small vial from his shirt pocket. It was full of a thick, blue liquid that seemed to glow like the moon. "It's leftover though from last summer. You should have seen the look on that Frog's face." England chuckled at the memory.

* * *

"Hon, hon, hon, Rachel, this park is magnifique." France gazed at the scene before him. A sprawling gravel path snaked its way through a beautiful meadow of tulips and wildflowers. To the right lay a small pond that was filled to the brim with the water so still it could have been mistaken for glass. Over it was a small bench shadowed by a holly tree.

"Thanks." She blushed.

"Come, sit by me." France walked over to the bench and picked a flower. As soon as Rachel sat down, he pinned it in her hair. "Mademoiselle, this is for you."

He leaned closer and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled, and they both went in for a kiss, French style. A sudden gust of wind blew through the meadow, rippling the water and exposing the full moon. There came an unpleasant churning feeling in France's stomach, but he focused his attention on his latest advance. After about a minute, he swore he could feel something furry snake down his pant leg, but he was too involved to care. His entire mind and spirit were focused on the kiss. The country of l'amour never gave any less.

However, he had to scratch when a nasty prickling sensation crept over his body, as if pins were slowly forcing themselves into his skin.

"I never knew you grew a mustache," Rachel whispered.

"I… I never did," France groaned just as his stomach flip-flopped and his muscles began to cramp. His skin suddenly felt much tighter around his limbs. Gingerly, he felt for the stubble on his chin, but his fingers trailed along a full beard which continued to lengthen. He furrowed his brow in confusion. Hair couldn't grow that fast.

Rachel opened her eyes she pulled away from him."St-stay away from me." She looked at France with eyes full of fear.

"Rachel, what is wrong?" France reached out, making Rachel whimper. Then he caught sight of his hand and realized just what the strange cramping had been. With a sudden spasm, the bones cricked, the muscles pulsated, and the skin stretched to accommodate a searing wave of growth. France's nails hardened and curled into claws. His palm and fingertips toughened into the dark likeness of pads. Shaggy blond fur swept over his enormous paw as it finished swelling and contorting.

France fought to ignore the tremendous pain beginning to wrack his entire body as he watched the transformation taking place. His other hand was beginning to expand and deform. His back strained. His chest bulged. He looked down to where the buttons of his designer shirt were forced from their stitching, allowing tufts of fur to come spilling out.

Rachel had long run away in fear.

He forced himself up, but immediately lost his balance. The rapidly-developing muscle of his upper body had made him extremely top-heavy. It didn't help when he managed to kick off his boots. His feet were already misshapen. He watched in horror as they, too, began to warp and elongate. He could feel and hear the bones shift and creak beneath the skin. His legs finally swelled and lengthened beneath his pants, straining the fabric and splitting the seams. A fluffy tail swung behind him as he arched his back and howled in total anguish. His ears stretched, and his nose and jaw pressed forward as gleaming fangs found their way into his mouth.

Much of the pain abated now. After coming out of a bout of shock, France used the bench to help balance himself. He forced himself to look at his reflection in the water. That was when it all made sense. He had been feeling particularly sick that day, and a number of odd occurrences had taken place beforehand.

Instead of France's good looks and yellow locks, the face of a monstrous wolf with glowing, sea-blue eyes stared back at him, the long, luxurious mop of fur on its head resembling France's hairstyle. He looked left and right and moved his paw, and the reflection mimicked him. He jumped back, understanding just what he had turned into.

"I'm not an animal!" His cries turned into howls, and he sat there howling at the moon.

"Well, looks like the show is over." England grinned and disappeared in a flash from behind the holly tree.

* * *

"Oh yes, I noticed his scent had changed at the world meeting that month. Thank goodness you changed him back. A werewolf stinks far worse than any wet dog." Romania wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Quit fooling around and give me my spell back!" England got impatient and jumped in the air, trying to grab the paper, but it flew out of reach again.

"I think I'm going to need one more thing from you," Romania said, eyes glowing full of hunger.

"Which is?"

"I need you to take a liter of blood each from those you intend to curse." The thought of finally being able to taste it and brag, sent shivers of excitement down Romania's spine.

"And why the bloody hell would I do that for you?" England questioned.

"You wouldn't want to go down in history like the Holy Roman Empire did?" Romania taunted him.

"No, and don't ever bring him up!"

"Make up your mind, England." A tiny tear appeared in the top of the page.

"You won't dare. You said it was precious to you as well." England frowned and locked eyes with Romania.

"I can easily put it back together, unlike you," he sneered. A breath-holding minute later, with the sheet only held together by a sliver of paper, England succumbed to Romania's pressure.

"I-I'll do it."

"Excellent." The rip sealed itself, and Romania let his levitation go. The page fluttered to the ground, allowing England to pick it up.

"Oh, and one more thing," Romania added. "If I don't get what I want in two full moons, I'll curse you. The stench will be worth seeing such agony on your face." He cut off a chunk of England's hair and disappeared in a puff of smoke. His laughter echoed off the walls. England gulped, but swiftly put aside the stress.

"Right, now what do I need?" He looked at the materials and did a mental checklist. "Chalk, yes, candles, I have enough, Wolf fur, got some, hair or hairs of intended victim or victims, that'll be hard," England thought. Then an idea popped into his head. "That's it, I'll have Italy do it for me. No one could be half as gullible." He took out his phone and began dialing him.

"Ciao, this is Italy," Italy said in his usual bouncy accent.

"Hello, it's England. I'm calling to say that I'm sorry about how I treated you," England apologized, words full of venom.

"Veh, it's ok. Germany said we need to have peaceful relations, so I'll forgive you!"

"Right, right. Good lad. Now listen, I need you to do a favor for me."

* * *

 **I wonder what England is planning... Find out in the next epic chapter!**


	2. Two Germans and an Italian

T"Now listen. I need you to do a favor for me."

"I can make you pasta!"

"Not that kind of favor."

"Then you want me to make pasta sauce?"

"No!" England shouted, frustrated.

"Th-then what do you need?" Italy's voice trembled in surprise from England's outburst.

"I'll need you to give me some strands of hair from Germany, Japan, and yourself for a top-secret project I'm working on. Don't tell them, though. It's our little secret." England smirked.

"Veh, why not? Shouldn't I ask them for permission?"

"No, and if I don't get it by midnight your time tonight, the consequence will be steep."

Italy's fault of frequent naivety bubbled to the surface. "Don't worry. You'll get it," he said, smiling.

"Thanks so much, and please, tell no one about our communication."

"I won't."

"Great, I'll see you then." England hung up and gazed at the sky through the window.

"That's right, Axis. In a few days, you'll be begging for mercy." He cackled, then caught a whiff of himself. "Romania was right. I do need a shower." He walked up to the door and opened it, only to get a furious blast of flames in the face. "I really need to remember my spells," he grumbled, making a mental note not to open the door from the inside.

* * *

The meeting had wrapped up, and the G8 had let out. America blazed right on out the door exclaiming in a fervor that he had hero duties to attend to. (His fervor left scorch marks in the carpet.) Everyone else took his time with departing. Germany, Japan, and Italy met up outside after grabbing their belongings from the storage lockers.

"Thank you for letting us stay at your house, Germany-san," Japan said as he stepped into Germany's car.

"No problem. Italy, why do you need such a big suitcase?" Germany pointed to the humongous piece of luggage the slight man was trying to cram into the trunk.

"This has all my most important possessions." He shoved the giant bag next to Germany and Japan's luggage and slammed the trunk shut.

"We should get on the road. I don't want to get caught up in rush hour." Germany climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door. Italy climbed into the back.

"Veh, why can't I drive?"

"Because there are no speed limits on my Autobahn, and I want no one hurt." Germany started up the car and drove away as Italy sighed with disappointment. After about a half hour of driving, they pulled up to his house. Germany unlocked the door, allowing Italy and Japan inside.

"Where's Prussia?" Japan asked.

"He shouldn't be getting here until tomorrow. He is visiting Sanssouci," Germany grunted as he lugged Japan's and Italy's bags inside. Then he took out a pile of paper and sifted through it.

"I printed out some team builders for us to complete." He slapped a stack of papers in the center of the counter.

"But I want to make pasta," Italy whined.

"I don't have a pasta machine."

"That's ok! I brought one!" Italy unzipped his bag. The contents followed a predictable theme: pasta ingredients, pasta sauce, and a pasta making machine.

"Don't you have clothes and toiletries!?"

"Eh, I dumped them out. My pasta machine wouldn't fit."

Germany buried his face in his hands and shook his head, attempting feverishly to understand Italy's logic.

Japan looked at the pasta machine with interest, trying to figure out how it worked. "I do not mean to offend you, Germany-san, but I would like to see how Italy makes his pasta." He went over to the sink and washed his hands.

"Italy, we can make pasta after we do a team-building activity." Germany moved the coffee table into his living room. By the time he finished, Italy had already dumped flour onto a cutting board and had started mixing eggs. Germany took a deep breath in and sighed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt for the team-building to wait." He rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands.

* * *

"Ok, Japan. Now we have to let the dough rest." Italy wrapped the pasta dough in clingfilm and put it aside. Japan plopped onto the couch and played games on his phone while Italy set the timer.

"Italy, do you mind teaching me how to make your pasta?" Germany asked.

"Not at all! Here, let me show you how." Italy dumped the flour on the table, gathered it all up into a mound, and made a hole in the center. "If you don't make the egg a well, it gets everywhere." He cracked an egg on the counter and broke it in the center. Then, he let Germany take over. Pondering the process too much, he accidentally smashed the egg on the counter and splattered it all over the floor.

Eventually he got it down, and a ball of pasta dough formed. Germany, tired of kneading, opened his fridge and took out a bottle of beer. He opened it, and the hissing sound of gas escaping caught Japan's attention.

"Germany-san what is that?" Japan pointed to the bottle.

"It's beer. Would you like to try some?" He got out another bottle from the fridge and offered it to the island nation. Japan nodded, and Germany handed it to him, then washed the dishes in the sink. Japan took a sip and smiled.

"This is great, Germany-san!" He took another sip. Then, without warning, he downed the bottle.

"Veh, impressive!" Italy exclaimed, as it was rare for Japan to drink large amounts of alcohol. The timer he had set beeped, and he rushed over to the stove to turn it off. When he turned around though, something was different about Japan. He had slicked his hair back, and his accent sounded rougher, almost like Germany's.

"You!" Japan pointed at Germany.

"What is it, Japan?" He asked as he looked up from the sink and caught sight of the island nation.

"Get me another beer and meet me in the dining room. We need to talk." Japan stomped off.

"What's gotten into Japan suddenly?" Germany asked himself.

"Veh, I don't know, but he's scary." Italy trembled in the corner of his kitchen.

"Wait, I forgot that Japan can be very impressionable. Remember when you took him to your place for a few days?" The memory of Japan with his Italian curl still made Germany cringe.

"Sì."

"I have a feeling that to turn Japan back to normal, we'll have to expose him to something from his own culture." Germany picked up Japan's bag and rummaged through it, finding his MP3 player and a few wrappers. At the very bottom, hidden underneath his clothes, were a few repulsive magazines. Germany immediately covered them back up. "I can't believe Japan is into this." The thought of reading them made Germany shiver in disgust.

"Veh, what is it, Germany?" Italy crept over.

"It's nothing you need to be concerned with!" He shut Japan's bag and tossed aside. It landed with a satisfying "thump" on the sofa.

"You had better not be going through my belongings!" Japan shouted from the dining room. "And where's my beer!?"

"Italy, I'll need you to sneak behind Japan as soon as I talk to him and turn on this song. Do you think you can do that?" Germany turned on the device and selected one of Japan's favorite songs. They were too electronically altered for his taste, but he could survive a minute. If anything could get Japan back into his usual self, it would be his music.

"Yes, sir!" Italy nodded and took the MP3 player. They both walked into the dining room, where Japan sat at the end of the table with a mountain of paperwork in front of him.

"Please sit down" Japan pointed to the two chairs at the opposite end of the table. His two friends reluctantly complied. Germany looked at Italy and nodded, giving a quick glance to the device and then to Japan to avoid suspicion. Italy turned up the volume and clicked play. The opening melody came on before quickly shifting into the first verse. A glimmer of recognition sparkled in Japan's eyes, but quickly fizzled out. "Turn that racket off this instant! It sounds like a pack of screeching cats!" He shouted. Italy jumped back, startled, and ran from the room faster than someone could say "pasta."

"I'll be right back." Germany followed after the fleeing Italian.

"Hey, you get back here right this instant! I'll make you kneel on frozen peas for two hours!" Japan yelled, then quickly decided to conserve his energy and focus on the paperwork, as he knew they would have to return eventually.

* * *

"Strange. That should have worked. We're probably doing this wrong." Germany and Italy hid in the bathroom. Neither wanted to leave for fear of the dreadful peas punishment.

"Then what are we supposed to do? Japan's acting scarier than you do, Germany! Not that you're scary! You're my best friend in the whole world! It's just that your eyes are really cold, and you're so much taller than me, and your voice is so loud—"

"Ja, I understand," Germany said, placing a hand over Italy's motormouth. "If anything, he's become a caricature of my culture. How shameful. I don't pore over paperwork and issue demands to everyone I see."

"When you're stressed, you do. You are a very influential country in Europe, and you have a lot of responsibilities, and those can lead to a lot of stress, and that's why you tell me to get you your bottle of aspirin during meetings—"

Germany's hand was instantly over Italy's mouth again. "The magazines!"

"Magazines?"

"Only something so potent and vile would be able to turn Japan back to normal. Italy, can you employ your skills in sneaking and avoid Japan long enough to retrieve his bag?"

Italy trembled, but swallowed his fear. After all, he had to save his friend Japan, no matter the cost. He nodded, and Germany opened the door. The two of them slunk back into the room. Italy got on his hands and knees to crawl past his taller friend and grab the bag.

"What made you think you could run off like that? And where is Italy?" Japan barked angrily at Germany.

"I wanted to make sure Italy didn't get hurt," he replied. "And he is getting our drinks."

"It doesn't take so long to open two beers. I should check on him." Japan stood up and was about to leave when Germany stopped him. He had acquired the bag from Italy and rummaged through it, wincing as he touched the hateful literature. He held it out to Japan. At the same time, Italy steadily rose next to him with an innocent smile on his face, and Germany promptly slapped his hand over his eyes.

Japan took one glance at the wretched material and stumbled backwards in surprise. He shielded his eyes, shuddering. Germany pressed the detestable publication even further, and Japan slowly lifted his head.

The island nation went immediately red in the face. He snatched his special possession from Germany's hands before seizing his bag from Italy and stuffing it all the way at the bottom again.

"Japan! You're back!" Italy exclaimed, wrenching Germany's hand away from his eyes.

"P-please do not look through my things," was all Japan could say.

"Veh, it's so great that you're acting like yourself again. Now what should we do? Ah! We never finished the pasta!" Italy got up quickly and started to work on the dough.

* * *

"Whew, I'm tired" Italy yawned as he finished. He looked at the clock which read 11:50. A huge heap of linguini sat on the cutting board in front of him, drying out. Italy had been up late cleaning and making extra balls of dough to keep for later. "Is it really that late? England will be here soon, and I don't have the hair!" Italy shot up and looked through drawers for a pair of scissors. He found a small pair and was about to cut off some of of his own hair, but hesitated. "Was England actually sorry? Is he using me?"

His arm lowered away from his head. "The consequences will be steep." Italy remembered the phone call from that afternoon and his promise. He turned around and checked the time again. The clock read 11:55. "Well, I guess it's now or never." Italy raised the pair of scissors and cut a small snippet of his hair. Then, he crept up to Germany's room and took a little of his hair before taking a small chunk of Japan's. Germany's watch beeped, showing it was midnight. Right on time, there was a knock on the door. Italy answered it, and England stood in the doorway, dressed in a black cloak. "England! I mhf!" Italy got a hand to the mouth.

"Hush! We don't want to draw extra attention to ourselves." England glanced around. He listened closely, then removed his hand. "Do you have it?" He asked.

Italy nodded quickly and opened his fist, revealing the hair he had taken. "Thank you, Italy." England grinned as he opened a small drawstring bag and put the clippings inside it. "I really must go now." He whipped his cloak around and walked away. As soon as he turned the corner, he teleported.

"Veh, it's late," Italy yawned. He walked upstairs and climbed into Germany's cozy bed, drifting off into a peaceful slumber.


	3. Spells, Dreams and Warnings

England stepped into his basement and chuckled to himself as he laid out the spell. It had to be just right, or it could backfire. Using chalk, he drew a circle on the ground with a triangle in the center. He then placed a candle on each of the points and matched a strand of each victim's hair with the wolf fur. In the center, he sketched another circle with various magical sigils outlining it.

He drew back and admired his work. "Now, Axis, this should teach you never to trifle with a wizard!" He cackled.

He then chanted the spell. The chalk flared and glistened, swollen with magical energy. Abruptly the candles burst into cold, light blue flames. The strands of hair levitated over the flames, and the fire enveloped them. England, mesmerized for a minute, watched the flames reshape themselves into three glowing orbs. They hung in midair for a second, then shot up through the ceiling and out the roof, ready to find their targets.

The leftover magic in the circle faded away, and a wave of dizziness flooded England's senses. Despite being such a powerful wizard, he submitted to fatigue and collapsed to the floor. Tripling a spell has its consequences. "It's done. It may have drained me, but it's done." His lips creased into a faint smile. Then exhaustion took hold, and his head fell to the floor.

A black vampire bat with beady red eyes flew away from the window where it had hung, squeaking with glee. It landed in the nearby woods. Just as its little claws touched down, a dense cloud of red smoke puffed up to surround it. When it faded, Romania stood up and disappeared into the night, grinning deviously.

* * *

The magical orbs phased through a window and split up. One found its way to Germany, who was still out on the couch. It floated over and hung above his head for a second, before popping, raining a shower of sparkles onto his head. One particular spark got sucked up one of Germany's nostrils as he breathed. His nose twitched, and a huge sneeze jolted him awake.

"Ugh, that's the last time I drink coffee right before bed for a long time," Germany groaned as he stumbled to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and washed his face while slicking his disheveled hair back. He looked up from the sink and locked eyes with his reflection. His eyes were glowing a vivid turquoise. Startled, he stumbled back and crashed into the wall behind him, making enough noise to wake Japan.

Germany heard Japan's footsteps thump against the wooden floor. "Germany-san, are you all right?" He knocked on the door, still half asleep.

"Scheiße (shit), Japan can't see me like this!" Germany panicked and lunged for the door. Japan opened it first, not noticing his own brown eyes flicker and shimmer, full of magic.

"Not you too, Japan." Germany rubbed his eyes and blinked. The glowing faded away as soon as he opened them.

"What do you mean by 'you too?'" Japan scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Germany mumbled as he used the marble counter to level himself.

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, what was the crashing sound?

"I splashed water on the floor and slipped," he lied between his teeth. He hated fibbing to a friend, but he didn't want Japan to be freaking out at three in the morning.

"Well, it is late. Do you need help?" Japan held out his hand.

"Nein (no), I'll be fine." Germany walked out of the bathroom and up the stairs. He was about to slip into bed when he found Italy curled up on the other side. "I guess I'll stay downstairs," Germany sighed as he got out a pillow and a thick blanket from a cupboard.

"Why aren't you sleeping in your bed?" Japan questioned as Germany walked downstairs with his nose stuck in a book.

"Italy's sleeping already, and I didn't want to jostle him." It was a casual remark, as Italy's inexorable fascination with Germany's bed was common knowledge among the trio at this point. Germany laid the blanket out on the wood floor.

"What's your manga about?"

"Um, I, uh…" Germany stuttered as his face turned a bright shade of red. Abruptly, he shut the book and tossed it aside.

"Goodnight, Germany-san," Japan quickly stated as he buried his head in the couch's pillows.

"Goodnight Japan," Germany chuckled and closed his eyes. He was out like a light.

* * *

Germany was startled to awaken in a vast field under the starry midnight sky. He pushed himself up and noticed two human shaped holes in the grass next to him. He peered into the hole to his left and found Italy curled up almost like a dog. Germany knelt and gently shook the sleeping Italian.

"W-where are we?" He mumbled sleepily.

"I don't know, but Japan is here as well." Germany peeked in the other hole. He found the island nation peacefully resting. Italy crept over and shook him awake.

"Italy-kun, personal space please." Japan tensed up and clenched his fists.

"Sorry."

"Germany-san, Italy-kun, do you know where we are?" Japan dusted dirt off himself.

The three finally had the chance to take in their surroundings. They stood in a vast meadow of lush lavender and wild grasses creeping up to their knees and dripping with dew. Greenery extended in all directions before a thick pine forest took over. In the far distance towered a majestic ring of craggy, snow-capped mountains that hugged the meadow as their kingdom.

Above them, clouds littered the sky like white cotton balls and diamonds studding black velvet. The crickets chirping in the background created a strange peace that blanketed the three. Italy lay down next to Germany's feet and traced shapes in the air with his arm.

"Italy, what are you looking at?" Germany looked up at the stars and squinted, trying to figure out what Italy was seeing.

"Veh, I'm stargazing. Grandpa Rome always told me you can see the future in the sky. See, Lupus the wolf is right there." Italy gestured for Germany to lie down next to him. He then traced the constellation out with his finger.

"Italy-kun, they're like pictures in the sky?" Japan sat down next to Italy and took a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air.

"Exactly!" Italy beamed and traced out two constellations. "That's Felis the cat, and Lepus the Hare," He took Japan's hand and pointed to the clusters of stars to his left and right. "Though, I don't remember Lupus being so big." Italy traced the constellation in confusion.

The clouds dissolved into mist, and the crickets ceased their chirping. Then the stars went out, like lightbulbs exploding, and the full moon grew swollen in the sky.

Italy glanced at Germany, who gazed up at the moon with an intoxicated look on his face. He nudged his friend, but Germany only continued to give his unceasing, sleepless stare to the majesty of the moon. Italy himself turned to the light and was instantly drawn in. His muscles relaxed. He couldn't move. He couldn't look away.

Then a low growling sound caught the Axis' attention. Three gigantic wolves slunk from the pine forest, lips drawn back and snarling. A blond-furred alpha led before an elegant black wolf and a bouncing copper wolf. Without a warning, the wolf with the copper red coat ceased its bouncing and bolted towards the three with its eyes set of Italy. He shrank in fear.

Germany threw himself in the wolf's way, but the wolf phased through his body like a ghost and then jumped onto Italy.

Strangely the phantom wolf didn't attack, but rather dove into Italy, disappearing into his chest. He toppled over, and his whole body twitched on the ground.

"Italy, are you ok?" Germany rushed over and stroked his back, trying to calm him down.

"T-t-tail, it hurts," he choked out, writhing and grabbing at his backside. He rolled over onto his stomach just as a rust-colored tail tore through his pants and whipped around. Italy then collapsed and trembled even more, completely unable to speak out of shock.

"Ah!" Japan yelped as he ran across the field trying to escape the black wolf. The beast caught up and leapt into Japan, the impact knocking him to the ground. His human ears strained and stretched up into pointed, furry wolf ears in the blink of an eye. Germany, with all his iron courage, bolted over to save his friend, but at the same moment, the blond wolf charged him. He sidestepped, and when it leapt, it sailed past him to land in the dirt. The wolf snarled and shook its pelt off.

Germany locked eyes with the beast."So you want to play. This will be like playing with dogs," He scoffed. The wolf lunged at him, and Germany sidestepped once again. Then a rock caught the back of his boot and tripped him. The wolf pounced, and in a flash of light, forced itself into Germany's chest with the sensation of freezing mist. He coughed and slowly got up, unbuttoning his shirt and checking the area for wounds, but there were none.

"How is that possible?" He wondered. Then there came the horrible feeling of something churning and shifting inside him, and he buckled over.

A burning sensation stabbed into his fingertips. It spread all over his hands and up his arms, and with clenched teeth, he scratched furiously at the incessant itching. Then his hands quaked, and his nails drew blood as they darkened and lengthened into claws.

Germany watched in horror as blond fur grew from his hands and sprouted in chunks all over his arms. "This can't be happening," he stuttered with wide blue eyes. He felt his palms seize, and his fingers curled as black paw pads swelled into place. Unbelieving, he stared down at his transformed features, and then something struck him in the back of the head. Stars danced beneath his eyelids, and the paradise-turned-nightmare faded from view.

It was quickly replaced by his living room wall.

* * *

Germany sat up gasping for air. He then checked his hands and exhaled in relief. "It was only a nightmare." Sunlight streamed through the window, momentarily blinding him.

"Germany-san, you had a nightmare as well?" Japan asked. The two locked eyes, but were interrupted as Italy zoomed down the stairs and leapt onto Germany.

"Veh, I had a scary dream! We were in a meadow, and we were stargazing, but then these wolves came out and ambushed us! One of them passed through me, and I could feel myself grow a tail!

A tail!" He cried, as he clung onto Germany.

"Strange. I had a dream like that as well, Italy-kun, though I only grew ears." Japan rubbed his head and checked his ears.

"Can you please get off me?" Germany asked. Italy stood up and Germany stretched, stiff from sleeping on the hardwood floor. "Does anyone want coffee?" He got up and got a pot of water out.

"I brought my own tea." Japan took out a box of green tea from his duffle bag.

"Thank goodness, I can't imagine what a British Japan would look like." Germany shook his head, trying to clear the image of Japan with a monocle and top hat out of his mind. The kettle went off, and Germany poured instant coffee into two mugs and green tea into the other, then handed one off to Japan and the other to Italy. Italy took a sip and spat it out.

"Veh, this coffee tastes like England's cooking," he groaned.

"Well, it's instant," Germany stated.

Italy rubbed his back, sensing a tingling sensation, but it subsided. he shuddered, and his stomach sank. "Is it true? Did we have the same nightmare?" He wondered aloud.

"Germany-san, what did you dream about last night?" Japan asked.

"This pack of wolves came out of the forest and attacked us. Then I can remember my hands and arms changing and getting knocked out. That's all can remember." Germany downed his coffee and set his mug in the sink.

"Italy-kun, can you check the time?" Italy looked at the clock, and his curl fluttered in alarm.

"Veh, my taxi will be here any minute!" He took out his suitcase, then realized his clothes weren't in there. "Germany, can I borrow some of your clothes?" Italy asked while gazing up at him with an innocent smile. Germany turned beet red.

"J-ja," he stuttered, then caught his tongue. "Let's see what I can find." He dug through a nearby closet and emerged with a t-shirt and jeans. "These should fit you."

"Thank you, Germany!" Italy took them and ran to the bathroom after giving Germany an overextended hug.

"Err, um, no problem," Germany mumbled, clearly embarrassed. "Japan, don't you have a flight as well?"

"Yes, I should get ready as well." Japan walked upstairs to take a shower. A few minutes later, a car pulled up and honked.

"Japan, Italy, the taxi's here!" Germany shouted. Italy zoomed by and shoved his bag into the car's trunk. Japan came out and somehow crammed his bag inside.

"Goodbye, Germany-san." Japan bowed and got in the car.

"Goodbye, Germany! Thank for having us!" Italy shouted as he waved goodbye. Germany waved back, then shut the door and cleaned up the kitchen.

"Oh, Italy forgot his pasta." Germany bagged it up and got himself ready for the day, changing into some fresh undergarments. He reached for his iron cross on a nearby mantle and picked it up, but the chain seared his skin, and he dropped it. The necklace clattered to the floor. Germany rushed over to the sink and ran his hand under the cold water.

"Why did my cross burn me? I don't remember leaving it out in the sun." He turned off the tap and considered the dream. "Is it possible for someone to turn into an animal?" He asked himself. He shook his head. "That's impossible. The transformation would kill a man. Maybe I'm developing an allergy."

He walked upstairs to get his casual clothes. "I should go to the market. Prussia will be here soon, and we used all the eggs." Germany checked the fridge. "And I should ask him what that chain is made of." He made a note on his phone and walked out of his house, locking the door behind him.


	4. Goats, Coffee and Chocolate

**Heads up that since Romano is in this chapter, curses are going to be flung around quite a bit (and no, not the magical kind either)**

* * *

Italy got off his flight and stretched, energized and ready for whatever the day might throw at him. He rushed through the terminal, barely stopping to grab his bag. As he turned around a corner, a certain person stuck out amongst the crowd. His chocolate-colored hair and beaming jade eyes seemed familiar, but his shirt was a dead giveaway. Red and white checkers decorated the front and back, while an embroidered Croatian soccer logo adorned his chest.

"Caslov!" (Chaslove) Italy shouted. Croatia spun around, and his face flooded with happiness.

"Feliciano! I haven't seen you in forever!" He beamed, locked his arms around Italy, and gave him a friendly hug. Maybe a bit too friendly.

"I an't eathe," Italy choked out as his face turned blue.

"Whoops." Croatia let go, and Italy fell to the floor. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Italy gasped as he caught his breath. "What brings you to my place?"

"How about I explain over a coffee right after I grab Istria's goat?" Croatia scanned the oncoming baggage and picked up a large, dinged up plastic kennel.

"A goat? Istria has a goat?" Italy peered through the holes on the side to spy an adorable kid sleeping within.

"Da, she never goes anywhere without him. Speaking of her, Istria, where are you!?" Croatia shouted to the seemingly endless mass of travelers. A girl who looked to be about seventeen years old with the same auburn hair as Italy strutted out from the crowd on her phone. A gravity-defying curl stuck out from the bottom of her hair and bounced along as she walked.

"Što tata? (What, dad?) I was in the middle of texting Slavo—" Her pine-colored eyes peered up from her phone and locked onto Italy.

"Veh, she's pretty." Italy's curl twisted itself into a heart shape and thumped. She walked over, but instead of hugging or kissing him as a greeting, she slapped him hard on the cheek.

"That's for using me, my siblings, and Croatia as puppets!" She gave him a glare that could've melted diamond.

"She's scary!" Italy trembled. Croatia chuckled and patted his back.

"Sorry, she still has a lot of pent up rage about World War Two," Croatia chuckled. Istria's nostrils flared like a bull's as steam shot out of her nose. She took a few deep breaths and relaxed.

A peaceful, welcoming smile returned to her face, and she sighed.

"Sorry about that. I needed to vent." She gave him a peck on the cheek. Italy's cheeks flushed, and hearts danced over his eyes.

"Koza! I've missed you so much!" Istria unlocked the kennel, and Koza trotted out to nuzzle his owner's leg. "Awe, I missed you too." She scratched his ear, and he nibbled on her jeans. Italy reached out and stroked the animal's furry back. Koza froze, then let out a bleat of fear and took off. His hooves clacked across the tile floor as he galloped away.

"Istria, what did I tell you about letting Koza out?" Croatia groaned in frustration. He turned on his heel and chased the goat around the baggage claim area, ducking and weaving around civilians. "Vratite se u jebeno kavez Koza!" Croatia swiped at him, but missed, and the goat crashed into a group of tourists, toppling them over like bowling pins.

"Veh, what does that mean?" Italy asked Istria, who had burst out laughing.

"I don't think you want to know. Croatian swears are known for being very…" She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain. "They're known to be colorful," She chuckled sheepishly. "Trust me. You don't want to know what it means."

"Oh ok, I understand," Italy sighed. Suddenly the clatter of metal echoed throughout the terminal, and he rushed over with Istria to find Croatia buried under a pile of luggage carts, holding Koza by his hind legs.

"I caught him!" Croatia shouted from the bottom of the pile. Istria whistled at the goat, and he broke free of Croatia's iron grip. He trotted over to Istria with his nose in the air, and she stroked his back.

"Silly Koza, you're normally so friendly," she giggled before she coaxed him back into the kennel and locked the door.

"Istria, you're telling me you could've called the goat over the whole time?" Croatia yelled at her in frustration.

"Um, Da tata (Yes dad). But Slavonia wanted the footage for her Instagram," She replayed the video. Satisfied, she sent it off. Croatia rubbed his temples and sighed.

"Slavonia and her phone these days. Remind me to ground her when we get back home," he huffed as he propped the carts back up and walked over to Italy. "You still up for that coffee?" He asked.

"Veh, sounds good to me." Italy smiled. The three of them then walked out of the airport and caught a cab to the older part of the Rome.

* * *

"It's so pretty, Italy, your place is amazing!" Istria swooned over each shop while Koza trotted right behind her on a rope. The market was bustling and full of life. Despite the buildings being older than Rome, they still housed shops and merchants from all over the world. The heavy scent of spices and floury, freshly-made pasta lingered in the air. From fabric to street food, anything could be found if it was sought out.

"Istria?" Croatia called the teen over and pulled out his wallet.

"What is it?"

"I'm going to go out with Italy since it's been a while. I assume you'll want to buy souvenirs," he said while pulling out a few bills of cash.

"Oh, thank you, dad!" She gave him a big smooch on his cheek.

"Now, when I text you that I am on my way back, you must meet me right here, ok?"

"Da."

"Have a good time!" Croatia waved as Istria sped off. "I pazite tvoje glavu!" (And watch your head) He yelled at her. Croatia turned to Italy and smiled. "Kids, they grow up so fast. Anyway, do you know where a good coffee place is?"

"Sì (Yes), it's right up this hill." Italy took him by the hand and led him through the winding streets, then sat him down at an old coffee shop, overlooking a grassy hilltop with a stunning view of Rome. If they stood up, they could see the faint glimmer of the Tyrrhenian Sea in the distance. After they had ordered their coffee, Italy picked up the conversation they'd left off at the airport.

"Veh, so what brings you to my place?"

"Well… It started around last spring when Slavonia wondered why her culture was different from Istria's and Dalmatia's. After I told her she had some influence from Hungary, she begged me to send her to her place. So, I caved in and let her go for a week. When she came back, she wouldn't stop talking about it for weeks on end and even made us some Hungarian stew," He explained. "So, when Istria noticed her culture was a bit more Italian than the rest of us, she begged me to send her to your place. But since I haven't been to Rome in a while, I tagged along as well."

Croatia lit a cigarette and took a long puff. Suddenly, the field the coffee shop sat near seemed familiar to Italy, as if he had been there before. At that instant, he realized he really had been there — in the dream. Italy's stomach twisted into a knot. His legs felt like springs as his mind replayed the events of the nightmare.

"Um, C-croatia?" Italy stuttered.

"Da? What is it Italy? Are you alright?" Croatia noticed that Italy had gone pale and had begun to sweat.

"I'm fine. I had a nightmare last night." He sipped his drink. The warm, bitter liquid calmed him down as it warmed him up from the inside.

"Relax, it was just a dream Italy." Croatia finished his drink and swirled the coffee grains around in his cup. "Or a warning."

"What do you mean?" Italy asked, even more terrified. Croatia handed his cup to Italy. The coffee grains curiously resembled the face of a wolf with a striking resemblance to Italy in front of a full moon. Even his curl stuck out in front of its fur. "It looks like me, but as a wolf." Italy shivered at the similarities.

"Don't worry. It could mean anything." Croatia tried to calm the panicking Italian down.

"How so?" He sniffled

"My predictions aren't always correct, this could mean many different things. Maybe you'll get a dog." He dug through the bag he brought. "Here, if it makes you feel better, Istria brought some of her truffles, and they go wonderful together with pasta." He handed him a jar full of what looked like ground-up mushrooms.

"Veh, grazie." (Thanks) Italy smiled and set the jar in his suitcase. Croatia put a few euros on the table, got up, and stretched.

"I'd better get going. I have a feeling that I'll have to drag Istria out of that market." Croatia gave Italy a firm pat on the back, then set off down the path they had come up from. Italy downed the rest of his coffee and left an extra euro as a tip. Instead of taking the route that he had come up from, he took an alternate route that would take him to the edge of Rome, where he lived with Romano. It so happened to pass through a dense forest full of pine trees.

* * *

As he walked, the gravel crunched beneath his shoes, and the ear-ringing chirps of cicadas reverberated throughout the forest. The grass to his right rustled, and Italy stiffened with fear. His heart raced, but he relaxed when an adorable fluffy bunny hopped out, and nibbled at a blade of grass.

"Whew, it was only a bunny," He exhaled. "A delicious bunny." Italy's eyes flooded with magic and began to glow a blazing amber, almost like something had been awoken. He stared at the bunny, drooling for a second, then crouched down and stalked the animal on his hands and feet.

"Ciao, ciao," he whispered as he crept up on it. "You're about to become my…"

He readied himself.

"DINNER!" He pounced. The bunny scampered back into the field, and Italy got a face full of dirt and grass. He shook himself off, and the magic dissipated. Whatever trance he had been caught in was immediately broken.

"I wanted to eat that bunny!" He sat on his knees in shock. "An adorable fluffy little bunny!" He cried. "Am I really turning into a wolf?" Italy questioned himself, examining his hands in terror. He quickly threw the idea out. "That's impossible. Werewolves don't exist."

His comfort was only short-lived. As soon as he looked up from his hands, he felt a sharp, tingling sensation in his tailbone. His phantom tail swished through the grass and batted a few leaves around. Italy jumped in alarm and looked around, trying to find it, but no such tail existed. "I must have been imagining things."

He glanced at his watch. "Veh, Romano is expecting me home any minute!" He gathered his senses and dashed off to his house, not wanting to be late. In his hurriedness, he failed to notice his gums tingle and his teeth shift as his canines grew longer and more pronounced in his mouth. Italy's stomach rumbled, and he groaned, remembering he'd had nothing but coffee and the saltine crackers on the plane. He stopped in a nearby shop when he reached his town and picked up a chocolate panforte to snack on as he rushed to reach his house on time.

* * *

"You're late." Romano tapped his foot on the floor with his arms crossed in front of him. "By a whole minute."

"I was only getting a snack." Italy glanced at his watch once again.

"Do you know how many things could have happened to you!? Dammit, you could've been kidnapped by the mafia! Or worse, killed!" He took Italy by his shoulders and shook him hard.

"Did you meet anyone suspicious?"

"No, but I did run into Croatia," Italy mentioned.

"Where is that football-loving hooligan!? I'll beat him straight into the ground!" Romano stomped out the door, fists clenched and tight with rage. Italy grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him back inside.

"Fratello, (Brother) calm down. He gave me some truffles." Italy dug through his bag and fished out the jar Croatia had given him. Romano took the it and a glared at the label. Unexpectedly he snickered.

"Oh, Croatia is in for a major beating," He grinned.

"Why?" Italy asked.

"The one thing I know Istria takes after me is her fiery temper," he chuckled. "I won't be surprised if he ends up with a big goose egg." The sizzling of water caught the southern Italian's attention and he turned around to see his pot of pasta boiling over. "Dammit!" Romano cursed as he scrambled to turn off the burner and get a strainer out.

"Do you need help?" Italy asked as he ducked to avoid a splash of boiling water.

"No! The pasta is going to be fucking overdone!" Romano gripped a wooden spoon between his teeth and strained the pot. Italy rushed over, and the two of them peered into the sink, fanning away steam. A huge pile of perfectly cooked pasta sat in the strainer, and Romano sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness. Are you going to want some?"

"Sì!" Italy chirped. Just as he was fetching a bowl, an intense wave of nausea rolled through his gut. "Never mind, I'm not hungry anymore," he moaned as he clutched his stomach.

"Are you ok?" Romano asked, concerned. "You never say no to pasta, even if you're full."

Italy just shook his head before dropping the bowl and stumbled over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Are you ok?" Romano knocked on the door. No answer. "Answer me! Are you fucking ok!?" He pounded on the door and then rushed in. He found Italy hunched over the toilet trembling as he hurled his guts out.

"I think it's from that panforte," he whimpered.

"Do you want some lemon tea?" Romano asked. Italy nodded, and he rushed out. Romano shoved a mug of water in the microwave with some lemon juice and honey. The moment the microwave dinged, he stirred it for a second and gave it to Italy, who guzzled it down.

His eyebrows shot up, and he relaxed for a second, then promptly regurgitated everything he drank into the toilet bowl. Romano exhausted every possible cure he knew of, even calling up Hungary, who only shouted at him through the phone. With options looking slim, he shoved Italy into his car and sped off to the nearest ER as fast as he could, narrowly avoiding cars as he pushed his engine to the max. "Come on, I've got to make it!" He slammed on the brake in the parking lot and rushed him inside, quickly getting him moved into a nearby examining room. After the doctor came in and performed a few tests, he took Romano outside to talk.

"Has this ever happened before?" He asked.

"No, I don't understand how he could get a nut allergy he hasn't had for his whole damn life!" Romano seethed.

"It's not the nuts he was allergic to. Have you ever heard of the compound called theobromine?" The doctor wrote some notes on his clipboard and made eye contact with Romano, peering over his glasses.

"No, what the fuck is that?" He asked, clearly annoyed.

"Signore, I would like you to refrain from using that language," The doctor said in a firm, authoritative voice. "Theobromine is a compound found in chocolate. For humans it's harmless, but it can display a variety of symptoms in dogs."

"So, you're saying il mio fratello (my brother) is turning into a fucking dog!?" He shouted, getting few stares pointed in their direction.

"Sir, what happened is that your brother had a reaction to the chocolate, and then the acid in the citrus tea you gave him irritated his stomach lining further." The doctor switched sheets on his clipboard and sighed. "Look, I can write off a prescription to help calm his stomach down and send him home, but other than that, I can't do anything else," He handed Romano a pink slip, filled out with his neat cursive writing.

"Fine." Romano rolled his eyes, took the slip, and grabbed his brother by the arm. "Come on, we're leaving." He helped him out of the hospital and picked up the meds on the way out. "At least it's still daytime," he sighed as he gazed at the sunset and shut the car door behind his brother. "Alright, take one pill and try to keep it down. I don't want to be stopping until we get home." Romano handed Italy the pill bottle. Italy opened it up and wrinkled his nose.

"This smells funny." He tried not to gag from the synthetic scent.

"What do you mean it smells funny?" Romano took the bottle and sniffed. "It doesn't smell like anything, now shut up and take one."

"But I don't want to!" Italy cried. Romano rubbed his temples and sighed.

"If you take your medication, I'll make you pasta."

"Veh, pasta." Italy took the pill and a wave of drowsiness washed over him. By the time the car pulled up in their driveway, he had fallen asleep.

"Great, now I'm going to have to drag him inside." Romano picked his brother up bridal style, but strained under his weight. "Potato bastard makes it look so easy," he grunted.

He managed to get Italy inside and set him on his bed before he collapsed on the couch out of breath. "See, I'm way better than you, macho potato," he laughed, then remembered the pasta he left in the sink. He rushed over and tasted it but spat it out. "Fuck, it's too overcooked now." He tossed the pasta out and tried again, but this time he consulted the internet for help.

* * *

 **Fun fact**

 **In Croatian Koza = Goat**

 **I honestly don't blame Romano for calling Croatia a hooligan. Soccer matches (Mainly the world cup) are huge events and its not uncommon to see flares being waved around (On fire). Also, sometimes people tossed them into the pitch (On fire) causing the games having to be put on hold. It is fun to go see matches in Zagreb, just expect to smell like beer after.**


	5. Birds, Hair and Brothers

"Bruder (Brother), I'm home," Germany called out as he shut the door behind him. The potent odors of beer and bird feathers reeked throughout the house, and the TV's volume was turned up to its maximum.

"Ja (yes)?" Prussia groaned from the living room. He was sprawled out across the couch and watching TV while the fluffy form of his bird let out tiny bird snores from atop his head. "You're going to wake up the awesome Gilbird," Prussia whispered in annoyance, pointing to his pet. It shifted its head under its wing and let out a tiny chirp.

"I'm surprised he was still asleep, considering how loud the TV is turned up!" Germany plugged his ears and reached for the remote.

"It's not loud. It's only on ten." Prussia snatched the remote and turned the volume down to five.

"See, you can barely hear the awesome news. You just missed it. There was a report about wiener dogs!"

The slightest twinkle of disappointment showed in Germany's eyes, but he clapped his hands over his ears and continued to wince at the volume. "It sounds like I'm in the middle of one of America's pop concerts surrounded by squealing fangirls!"

"How do you know what that would sound like?" Prussia smirked and clicked the mute button on the remote. "There, better?"

"Very." Germany removed his hands. Seeing as his bird was already disturbed, Prussia got up and opened the fridge, only to slam it shut in disappointment.

"We're out of beer." He groaned and flopped back onto the couch. "Can you go get some?"

"Why can't you?"

"Just trying to be responsible." Prussia smiled innocently and pointed to two empty bottles and a shot glass on the table. Germany rubbed his temples and sighed.

"Fine, but you're paying, and no more tonight." He held out his hand to his brother. Prussia slapped a ten-euro bill in his hand and turned the volume back up.

Before Germany went out again, he ascended the stairs to his room to change out of his clothes and into some fresh ones. Suddenly, he felt something tickle the back of his neck. Germany reached to scratch it, but by the time he touched the area, it was gone.

"Strange," he muttered, shuddering. He found a navy-blue football hoodie and slipped it on before he drove off to the nearest Aldi.

* * *

The moment the automatic doors slid open, he took a long, deep breath and expected to be greeted with the pleasant scents of flowers and spices. Instead, it smelled like someone had sprayed perfume and spilled pepper everywhere. The nauseating scents mixed with a clamorous roar of voices. The world seemed to grow everywhere he looked, and his nerves burned as every sense was overloaded. A pounding migraine echoed through Germany's skull, and his vision spun. The lights flickered, and his eyes surged with magic before he collapsed.

Germany's eyelids fluttered open, and the stench of hand sanitizer and old coffee flooded his nose. The dingy florescent lightbulbs temporarily blinded him as he rubbed his eyes and glanced around. The room was small, only able to comfortably fit about five people. The couch he had woken up on was worn down and pungent, full of unknown stains. "Hello?" Germany called out. He heard a toilet flush, and a lady with bobbed dark red hair stepped in.

"Oh, you're awake. Thank goodness." She sighed with relief as she poured a cup of the day-old coffee and offered it to Germany, who refused.

"Sorry, but I won't be able to fall asleep if I drink this. I keep a tight personal schedule."

"Suit yourself." She shrugged and downed it in one go.

"Who are you?"

"Just the owner's daughter, Mia." She held her hand out and Germany shook it. "Wait, I recognize you. Your brother, Gilbert, likes our beer and Bratwurst, right?" She leaned against the counter off to his right.

"That's him," Germany chuckled awkwardly. "I really must be going. He must be wondering where I am right now." He got up and was about to step out of the breakroom, but Mia stopped him.

"Here, take this." She set down two cases of beer and handed Germany a bag full of sausages.

"There is about a pound of Bratwurst and Mettwurst in the bag."

"Oh, um thanks. How much will this cost?" Germany fumbled for his wallet, but Mia put her hand up.

"It's free."

"Nein, there must be something I can give you."

"It's free," she repeated firmly.

"Danke (Thank you), Mia." Germany heaved the cases and took them out to his car.

Mia ran out and shouted. "I never caught your name!"

"It's Ludwig!" He shouted back as he lugged the last case into his trunk and shut it. Then he got in, started the car, and drove off.

"I hope he feels better. He did take quite a tumble," she thought as she leaned against the wall and sipped on a coffee before closing the store.

* * *

"Right, got the beer, now I just need to ask Prussia what the chain is made of and go to bed posthaste before this headache gets any worse," Germany sighed as he drove along the road. The night was eerie and so cold he could see his breath inside the car.

"Prussia really needs to get a new heater." He shivered and slipped the hood on to keep warm. The only illumination he received came from the twinkling stars and nearly-full moon, which coated the road and bathed Germany's entire right side in its mysterious silver light.

Then a strange tickling sensation spread over his scalp, and a wayward strand of hair brushed the back of his neck. He tucked it away, but as he reached back, a long lock of blond hair fell next to his cheek. "Did Prussia give France a haircut in my sweatshirt?" He gave the strand an experimental tug… only to find that it was attached to his head.

"What the hell?" He pulled over and parked. Tentatively, he removed the hood and checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. Instead of the tidy, short, gelled back hair he was used to seeing, Germany made note of a long, lustrous mane spilling out of the hood. "I look like Germania! How does hair grow that fast?" He dug through the front compartment and slammed it shut in frustration. "Where the hell did he leave the emergency scissors?"

Germany checked the passenger seat and then the back. Finally, he found them in the seat pocket behind him and stepped out of the car. He snipped and cut, and after a few minutes, his hair was back to its relatively normal length, despite being slightly choppy in some areas. "Hopefully Prussia doesn't notice," he breathed, wondering just how the event had occurred in the first place. He slipped the hood back on and started up the car again, but in his deep, spiraling thoughts, he couldn't notice wisps of magic pulse throughout his hair as it began to grow again.

* * *

"West, you're back!" Prussia snatched one of cases of beer, sat down at their table and cracked a bottle open.

"Ja — Hey, what did I say about drinking more?"

"It takes the edge off."

"What edge?"

Prussia just gave his brother a pitiful look, and the younger shook his head in disappointment. "Anyway, I need to ask you a question." Germany sat across from him. "Do you remember what the chains of our iron crosses are made of?"

"Dude, you forgot what our awesome crosses are made of?" Prussia spat out his beer and laughed. Germany glared at his brother, feeling anger start to bottle up inside. "They're made of iron, duh, But the chains are made of silver. How could you forget?" Prussia snickered. "Also, why aren't you wearing yours? I found it on the ground when I got back."

The burn Germany received earlier that day, began to sting. "Shouldn't have that healed by now?" He glanced at the injury, which was still red as a tomato.

"Hey, West?" Prussia asked.

"Ja, what is it?" Germany replied

"Are you planning on going as Rapunzel for Halloween? You look ridiculous in that wig!" Prussia could barely contain his laughter.

"I'm not wearing a wig." Germany reached back and took off his hood. A cascade of hair unfurled, and he could feel it touch his lower back.

"Come on, are you just toying with me?" He reached over the table and pulled a large chunk of it. "Man, this wig is really stuck down." He grabbed another chunk and tugged harder.

"Ow! Would you stop that!?" Germany hissed and pushed his brother away.

"Oh, come on Bruder, quit joking with me and take that wig off." Prussia reached for Germany's head.

"It's not a wig!" Germany shouted, glaring as his eyes flashed and glowed. Prussia jumped back, fell to the floor, and pointed a quivering finger at Germany's face.

"Um, West?"

"What!?"

"Your eyes, they're glowing."

Germany snapped out of his rage, and his breathing grew shallow. The magic in his eyes disappeared, but it returned to his silky hair. Each strand lit up, growing in length and reaching the back of his calves before stopping.

"Sorry, what was I thinking?" He shook his head, then noticed the extra weight on his scalp.

"What the?" he turned around and grabbed a handful of his own hair, holding it up and drawing it

out. "But I just cut it!"

"At the rate it's growing, I won't be surprised if you are Rapunzel in the morning." Prussia pointed his eyes in between Germany's feet, prompting him to look down. His hair now swept against the floor and picked up dirt along with it. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and with a pair of scissors, he chopped his hair off in one clean swoop up to his cheeks.

At this point, his analytical mind was on overdrive, constantly surveying details and reviewing every strange occurrence he'd witnessed. But with the peculiarity at hand taken care of, he cleaned up the heap of hair on the ground and pretended that it had never once hung from his head. Prussia finished his drink and glanced back at Germany as he made room for the cases in the fridge.

The mirage of normalcy was soon broken when Prussia noticed his brother's hair had grown back and was getting longer with each passing second.

"West?" He poked his brother on the shoulder.

"What is it now?" He turned around and shut the fridge.

"It's back," he said simply. Prussia tugged on a strand, which now reached the middle of Germany's back. He reached for the scissors, but his older brother quickly stopped him. "If you keep on cutting it, it'll only grow back longer."

"Then what am I supposed to do? I don't want to end up being choked by my own hair during the night!" Germany stormed back and forth on the wood floor, trying to think of a solution.

"West, relax. How about we just watch this awesome anime Japan gave me and forget about your worrying?" Prussia popped in a disk and turned on the TV.

"Fine, just as long as it isn't too loud and we figure out a solution soon." Germany huffed and sat down on the couch just as his hair reached his thighs.

By the time the first episode finished, Germany had quite the abundance of hair. It trailed its way down the back of the couch and collected into a small mountain on the floor.

"Great. Now what am I supposed to do with this?" He grabbed a spare rubber band and pulled up the pile.

"Well, we could braid it like that awesome Edward Elric guy." Prussia pointed to the TV.

"We are not going to braid it." Germany stated firmly. "I don't want to look like a girl."

"But you already do," Prussia chuckled. He only stifled his mirth when Germany shot him an icy glare, then reverting to his own diligent upbringing. "How else are we supposed to keep it off the floor?"

"Tie it up." Germany tried to make a bun on the top of his head, but ended up making what looked like a pancake. Not even five minutes after he put it up, it collapsed, and he groaned.

"See, I told you, you should have asked the awesome me to braid it." Prussia gestured. Germany sat cross-legged in front of him with a scowl as he began delightedly and diligently working the lengthy strands of hair over and under each other.

"Where did you learn to do long hair?" Germany asked as Prussia pulled a strand tight, which caused him to wince a bit.

"Switzerland sometimes asked me to babysit Liechtenstein when he was doing some of his own business, and I had to learn how to do her hair. We used to have some of the most awesome adventures." Prussia stared off into space, remembering his good times.

"Did those happen to include un-tuning Austria's piano?" Germany asked.

Prussia froze. "U-uh… no." Prussia tied the chunky braid off. Germany stood up, and it fell to his side.

"I think it stopped growing," he sighed. "I'll communicate with England now and in the morning to sort this out. Being a nation of strange and arcane behaviors, he probably knows something about it." Germany took out his phone and texted said bushy-browed nation. Immediately after, his phone rang, and Germany picked up the call.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?" Germany asked.

"How the bloody hell can you not know who it is? It's England, you nitwit!"

Germany winced, the angry voice ringing in his sensitive ears. "My apologies, but I was meaning to call you anyway." Germany pushed away Prussia, who had leaned over to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"For what reason?" England asked.

"This is an unbelievably silly question, but do you know anything about how to stop hair from growing? In the past hour, mine has grown exponentially, and every time I cut it, it grows longer."

There came a soft chuckle from the other side. "Sorry, but no. However, your plight may have been caused by a misfired hair-growth spell meant for France." England then leaned away from the phone and remarked, "Excellent, the curse worked. All I need to do now is wait." A wry grin crept up on his face, but still, a pang of guilt struck his heart.

"England?" Germany called out. "Are you still there?"

"Oh, um sorry, I spaced out," he apologized. Then an idea came into his head. "Listen to me. I might know a way to temporarily cease your suffering."

"Which is?"

"Chop it off only halfway up, and it will still grow, but it won't be as out of control."

"But it's not." Germany checked his head and his braid felt slightly looser. "Growing. Not anymore."

"Trust me. Cut it off halfway, and wait until it grows back," England reassured. He then hung up. Germany stared at his phone for a second before slipping it back into his pocket.

"So, West, who was that?" Prussia asked with an intrusive smirk plastered on his face.

"It was England, and I think I know how to deal with this hair." He took his braid and cut it again.

"But it's going to grow back longer, and then I'll have to braid even more," Prussia whined.

Germany rolled his eyes just as his stomach let out a loud growl. He peered down, but a sudden spark of magic flashed in his eyes, and there was only one thing on his mind: raw, juicy meat. He could already taste it, the intense craving clouding all other thoughts it as if he would die without a savory morsel.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, savagely wiping a fat glob of saliva from his chin and stepping to the fridge. He seized a raw Bratwurst and ripped into it. No cooking, no heat. He simply leaned against the fridge and feasted as if it were a piece of jerky. Prussia turned away and did his best not to hurl.

"West, you're eating that sausage raw." He put his hand over his mouth, and his face turned a shade of sickly green. Germany realized what he did and spat it out into the sink.

"Why did I eat a raw sausage? Ugh, I'm probably going to have food poisoning." He thought as he coughed into the sink.

As he stood over it, his mind began to wander, assembling information and reanalyzing it with incredible efficiency. That was when it all made sense. The burn, the excessive hair growth, the strange craving, and the enhanced senses seemed to point to one notion.

He was turning into something.

But what into? He had the name on the tip of his tongue, but it kept on slipping away. Germany looked up from the sink and turned to his brother. "Bruder?"

"Ja?"

"These symptoms must be the work of magic. What do you think it means?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're turning into a werewolf? You looked like one tearing into the fridge like that," Prussia replied in a joking manner.

Germany's eyes widened. Of course he wasn't turning into a werewolf. Just the thought of it was absurd. Even magic itself wasn't easily accepted by his logical thought process. Then again, immortal embodiments of nations existed, and so did the fact that one of them had grown seventy feet of hair within an hour.

"Do you think it's possible I could be turning into one?"

"Are you crazy, West? I'm almost a thousand years old, and I know people can't turn into werewolves. You're letting all that stress get to your head. But if you were turning into one, it would be pretty awesome. You'd be so manly and strong." Prussia pumped his fist to his chest.

"Ja, it would be quite crazy," Germany chuckled. He then yawned and straightened his back. "I'm going to bed. Please try to keep it down."

"Ja, ja." Prussia waved him off and turned the volume back up on the TV slightly.

"I can hear it!" Germany called from upstairs. Prussia rolled his eyes and turned it back down.

"West must have super hearing if he can hear it from his room," he thought as he dozed off on the couch, absurd yet awesome visions of his brother splitting his clothes and growing into a manly wolf amusing his dreams. Gilbird fluttered over and buried himself in Prussia's shirt, slowly flying off into an adorable, deep sleep.


	6. Wolves, Fish and Snakes

**Yay! Another chapter done. Thank you to my friend again for editing and proof reading. I hope you enjoy the next chapter and keep reading! Things are going to get interesting, very soon.**

* * *

Japan walked through the gate and into the airport. It was now four in the morning in Beijing, and despite having spent the night on a ten-hour long-hall flight with a three-hour delay, he strangely didn't feel tired. It was as if the day had only just begun. Japan's phone buzzed with an incoming text message, and he whipped his phone out to read it.

 _I'm here, but next time book an earlier flight_ , the message from China read. Japan shuffled out of the airport and found China. The old nation sipped a coffee as he leaned on his car.

"You're finally here. Now get in the car. I want to go back to bed, aru," China groaned. He climbed into the driver's seat. Japan stepped into the back and closed the door.

"Remember, you're only staying here for two days, and then you're out. Do you have your tickets?" China asked. Japan nodded.

They drove off from the airport and passed the city. Japan gazed at the skyline, which stuck out on the mysterious, smoggy sky. Then Japan's focus was thrown off, quite literally, as he was flung left and right in the back seat while China swerved around cars and shouted at oncoming traffic.

"Maybe we should slow down!" Japan's knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the door handle. His eyes suddenly glowed and flickered as they flooded with magic.

"No! Our exit is here anyway, aru." China jerked the steering wheel right, and the entire car leaned on two wheels. Japan was thrown once again, and this time, he ripped the handle off the door. He stared, unbelieving, down at his hand and back to the hole.

"I didn't think I was as strong as America-kun." His heart thumped in his chest from the burst of adrenalin. He quickly slipped the broken handle into the car's pocket and looked around in a quick act of innocence just as the car pulled up into China's driveway. Japan stepped out of the car and bounded into the country's house, only to be taken off guard as Korea tackled him to the ground.

"Japan, da-ze!" He tackled Japan to the ground just as a wok came flying out of nowhere and smacked him right on the head, knocking him off.

"No tackling guests!" China shouted. Korea took off with Taiwan and Hong Kong, who was holding a video camera. "Get back here!" He chased the trio around the house, stopping to catch his breath every few minutes.

"Do they always fight like this?" Japan wondered as he dragged his bag upstairs to the spare room he always used when he stayed at China's place. He flopped on the bed and huffed. Even now, he wasn't tired. This incessant energy and that strange burst of strength had to be connected somehow. Japan remembered the nightmare he'd shared with his friends and shivered.

* * *

A few hours later, he sat down at the table next to China and began eating an omelet. The first bite tasted like heaven. The fluffiness of the eggs and the bite of the green onion seemed to pair perfectly together. Of course, China had made this omelet before, but something about this one seemed to taste so much more amazing. He swallowed and reached for his glass of water, but the moment he picked it up, it shattered. Glass shards and water littered the table and floor. China huffed in annoyance.

"Well, that's one more mess to clean up," he grumbled before shuffling over to the closet to find a broom.

"Whoa Japan, do you have superpowers?" Taiwan gazed at him in astonishment.

"Hey, superpowers originated in Korea." Korea took his glass and attempted to crush it in his hand. "Come on, break!" he moved on to using two hands.

"I wonder how long he's going to try this," Hong Kong muttered to himself while he tapped away at his phone screen.

"Aiya! Don't break any more glasses!" China swept the remainder of the shards away. "I'm going upstairs, and when I get back, I expect all of you to be dressed and ready to go." He stomped away with such exasperation that storm clouds hung over his head.

"Almost got it!" Korea grunted. At that point, he had tried every possible way to shatter the glass. In a last-ditch effort, he tried putting it in a headlock and crushing it with his underarm. The glass popped out and hit the wood floor, putting a dent in it.

"Face it, you weren't going to be able to break that glass no matter how hard you tried," Taiwan laughed, almost shooting her bubble tea out of her nose. Hong Kong rolled his eyes at Korea and turned his attention back to his phone.

"I'm almost ready! Everyone should be waiting for me at the door, or I'm taking your electronics!" China shouted from upstairs. Korea, Taiwan, and Hong Kong dropped what they were doing and raced up to their rooms. Japan chuckled and walked to his room to grab a shirt and get ready for the day.

* * *

Japan blew a lock of black hair out of his face as he gazed out the window, deep in thought.

"I wonder what that dream meant," he muttered. Korea happened to have crept over Taiwan and was just in earshot to hear him.

"What dream!?" Korea asked. Japan jumped, and with inhuman reflexes, he lashed out and punched Korea in the face.

Korea sailed back over and slammed into the door. "Ow," he groaned. A thin stream of blood trickled out of his nose and dripped onto his clothes, causing Taiwan to shriek.

"What's going on back there!" China hollered. The ancient nation tried to crane his neck back as he maneuvered around cars.

"Korea has a bloody nose!" Taiwan shouted with urgency in her voice. China thrust the steering wheel to its max and veered into the turnpike. Everyone slammed into the right of the car, except China, who struggled against gravity. The car's tires screeched and came to a halt in the parking lot. China rushed Korea to the bathroom to stop the bleeding, leaving Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Japan in the car.

"When did you get this strong, Japan?" Taiwan took his arm and examined it, bending the elbow and prodding the muscles.

"And when did you get this hairy?" Hong Kong asked without looking up from his phone.

"What do you mean by…?" Japan pulled back his sleeve and gaped at his arm. His usually bare limb was now covered in a dense coat of black hair. He shoved his sleeve back down and checked his other arm. "But I didn't have any hair when I was changing!" He panicked and peeked down his shirt. The same hair covered his entire chest and back.

"It's also on your hands," Taiwan pointed out. Japan took out a pair of gloves from his pocket and slapped them over his bushy hands while he blushed from embarrassment. After a few more moments of awkward silence, Korea hopped back into the car, good as new minus a few blood stains on his shirt and a few tissues shoved up his nose.

"Hopefully there _won't_ be any more pitstops before we reach Beijing." China eyed Japan, then buckled himself up, ignited the engine, and drove off. As the bustling capital came into view, a feeling of dread crept up on Japan. Something was telling him to get out, but why? He swallowed the lump in his throat and held it down.

"There is nothing to be worried about," he told himself as they approached the freeway exit and entered the city.

* * *

"I have business meetings until the afternoon. Thanks for babysitting them for once." China took out a few bills and handed them to Japan. "This should cover any costs for food and any attractions, aru."

"I can't take this; it's your money," Japan objected.

"Just take it. I can't trust Korea." China stepped into a taxi and rolled down the window. "And make sure to meet me by the Forbidden Palace by three o'clock." The car drove off.

"So, what would you like to do?" Japan asked the trio. Hong Kong shrugged his shoulders and continued texting while Korea bounced all over the place with his music turned up. Taiwan thought for a minute before an idea popped into her head.

"The zoo isn't too far from here. Could we go?"

Hong Kong shrugged and nodded his head while Korea somehow launched himself at Japan like a cannonball, arms outstretched and eyes set on his chest. Japan ducked with animal agility and caught him by the shirt. Then, with barely any effort, he threw him up in the air as if he were a rag doll. Taiwan's jaw dropped to the ground, and Hong Kong filmed the whole thing on his phone.

Korea tumbled down, and Japan's eyes surged with magic as he jumped up and slammed him into the ground. The parking lot shook from the impact as a deafening boom echoed around. All while this was happening, Japan wore a neutral yet haunted look, almost like he was possessed. Just as he was about to hit Korea with all his force, the question he asked snapped him out of his trance.

"Woah, are you wearing cosplay contacts?"

"No, why?" Japan stopped in his tracks.

"Your eyes are glowing," Korea said, looking in awe. Apparently, he was so dense that even being slammed into the ground couldn't phase him. "Can you make me a pair?"

"I'm not wearing any contacts." Japan rubbed his eyes. "Can we forget about this?"

"As long as you can make me a pair."

"I'll see what I can do," Japan sighed as he shook the remainder of the magic away.

* * *

After Japan payed for admission, the first thing Korea wanted to see was the reptile house. The thought of snakes made Japan shiver. Their soulless, never-blinking eyes and cold, slithering bodies made his skin crawl.

"Awe, come on Japan. They're so cool, plus they're behind glass so you can't get bit." Korea bounced, full of excitement, as he dragged Japan into the building.

"Please, can you leave me outside?" He asked.

"Nope!" Taiwan took him by his hairy arm and lugged him inside. Japan blinked for a second as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and then the potent smell of animals drifted around him. With a small sniff, he could tell where they were and what they were. He swung his head around in confusion.

The walls were lined with glass cages for the smaller snakes and newts, while in the center, guard rails lined the crocodile pen. Korea ran over to the first cage to his left, which housed a little corn snake.

"See, it can't to anything." He tapped on the glass, but the corn snake didn't move. However, when Japan approached it, it shot up and slithered to the back of its cage in fear. "Hey, where did he go?" Korea tapped on the glass harder until Taiwan grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

"You're going to freak it out more if you keep doing that."

"Fine." Korea rolled his eyes, then ran over to the crocodile pen. Hong Kong snapped a picture of the sleeping animals. Japan approached the exhibit once again, and the crocodiles woke up, locked eyes with Japan, and then crawled under the waterfall. "Why do they keep on running away?" Korea huffed with disappointment.

He walked out of the house, immediately running over to the tiger cage. "Hey, it's my national animal!" He whipped out his phone and started taking selfies. Taiwan and Hong Kong quickly followed him, taking videos and pictures of the beast. As he waited for them to lose interest, Japan leaned on the railing and gazed into the wolf pen across from them.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to be a wolf for a day," he muttered to himself. "To have no worries or cares. Just to be free." One of the wolves trotted out and looked right at Japan.

"Though that's just silly." He glanced back at the younger nations then back at the wolf. "You get it, right?" He asked the animal. The wolf nodded back, causing Japan to jump. "You can understand me!" He crept back over and leaned over the railing to get a closer look, only to lose his balance and tumble into the pen. "Help me!" He shouted. Taiwan looked around in confusion as she snapped another picture of the tiger. "I'm down here!"

Taiwan peered over the railing. "Japan, how on earth did you get down there?"

"I lost my balance! Find a zookeeper, quick!"

The wolves began to circle him. He backed up slowly until his back hit the mossy stone wall. The pack closed in, but instead of attacking him, they kept their distance and formed a semi-circle around him. He pressed himself against the wall even tighter. Adrenalin thundered through his veins, and his heart pounded in his chest.

Japan held his breath and closed his eyes as the largest wolf trotted up. It jumped and slammed its paws on either side of Japan's head so its foul breath was inches from his face. But instead of tearing into him, the wolf pressed its wet nose to his forehead and lowered itself back to the ground. It then got down on its knees and bowed its head. Just as Japan reached out to touch its fur, it ran off with the rest of the pack trailing behind. He breathed out, feeling like a weight had been removed from his chest.

"Japan, we've come to rescue you!" Korea shouted as a zookeeper stepped inside the pen and got him out.

"You were lucky to get out without a scratch," the keeper sighed as he shut the pen. "They need to make the guard rails higher."

"Thank you for getting me out." Japan caught his breath.

"No problem. Just be careful next time, or you might end up as an animal's lunch," the zookeeper joked.

"Right," Japan chuckled nervously as he was dragged out of the area by Taiwan.

"Come on, I want to visit the aquarium." She took his sleeve. Korea ran up ahead, and Hong Kong trailed behind them with his phone inches from his face.

* * *

A blast of balmy air hit Japan in the face as he stepped into the aquarium. Right in front of them was a huge tank containing a myriad of fish species from all over the world. In the center, a giant coral reef twisted upwards like a tree, leaves of seaweed waving in the currents.

"Wow." Japan snapped a picture of the massive tank just as a colorful school of fish swam by.

"They're so pretty!" Taiwan giggled. "Ms. Hungary would love it!"

"I think she would." Japan smiled, and his stomach growled. Suddenly, the fish in the tank seemed much more… appetizing than before. He licked his lips, and as another school swam by, he leapt towards the tank, arms extended and eyes glowing, and smacked his head hard against the glass. Korea, Hong Kong, and Taiwan winced and ran over to help him up.

"You cracked the tank." Hong Kong ran his hand over the minuscule crack. Suddenly, the glass creaked and groaned, and a series of snaps came from the fracture. With each one, the crack grew bigger and longer.

"It's gonna break!" Korea backed up, turned, and ran out the door just the tank burst, and a giant wave of water swept them all off their feet.

* * *

"So, any reason why you happen to be soaking wet in your clothes, aru?" China gave Korea an unimpressed look while tapping his foot and shifting his crossed arms.

"It wasn't me! It was Japan!" Korea pointed.

"Hey! He didn't know what he was doing! It was like something was controlling him," Taiwan argued.

"What the hell happened in the first place? I just got a call from my other boss that the tank in the national aquarium broke! We lost over a hundred creatures, and a person was hospitalized!"

"Japan hit the tank so hard with his head that it cracked," Hong Kong said emotionlessly as he uploaded pictures of the mess to social media. How his phone survived? No one knows.

"And you expect me to believe that? The glass was made to hold up to bullets!" China propped his hands on his hips, then rubbed his temples and sighed. "Whatever." He rolled his eyes and unlocked his car. "Get in. We're going home."

"Finally," Hong Kong muttered. As they drove away, and the city grew smaller in the distance, one thing pestered Japan in the back of his mind.

"Why didn't the wolves attack me?" He rubbed his forehead where the wolf had touched him with its nose. "And why did one bow?"

* * *

The moment Japan arrived back to China's house, he burst through the door and rushed upstairs, dumping his bag out on his bed. He combed through his belongings, grabbing his toiletry bag and fishing around inside it for a razor. When he didn't find one, he pushed everything back into his bag and sighed, taking off his coat and gloves.

"How am I going to get all this hair off?" he stared at his arms and chest and took in a deep breath, gagging at the stench of fishy water. "I need a shower." He got up and made his way towards the bathroom. He stripped and turned on the water, finding the same black hair had spread down his legs and sprouted on the tops of his feet like grass. "More!" He groaned and stepped inside, pulling the shower curtain in front of him. While he scrubbed himself down, using half of the shampoo, he spied a razor sitting above him on a rack. He reached up and grabbed it, looking at it with confusion. How he was going to use it was anyone's guess. Japan took a deep breath and pulled the razor up his leg, accidentally nicking himself on the ankle. He winced, but soon enough, he had finished with his legs and moved on to his chest. When he was finished, clumps of hair littered the shower floor like an animal shedding and he stepped out, flushing it all down the drain with the use of the shower head. As he slipped on a shirt, Taiwan knocked on the door.

"Hey Japan! China wanted me to let you know that dinner is going to be ready in an hour!"

"I'll be there in a second," Japan replied as he put on a pair of pants. The sun began to set over the horizon and with it, Japan's stomach began to feel strange, like it was twisting itself into knots. He brushed it off as merely from being exposed to the cold and stepped out into the hallway, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something terrible was going to happen extremely soon.

* * *

 **I still don't know how Hong Kong manages to keep his nose in his phone, without running into walls. Thanks for reading and see you in the next chapter!**


	7. Tea, Moons and a Unicorn

**I would like to thank Syntax-N for beta-reading and editing this chapter, along with my friend**

* * *

England, after half a day at parliament, shut the door and sighed. The morning seemed drawn out. He felt exhausted already, and it wasn't even tea time yet!

"She was right. It's probably from just from stress." He tossed his wet coat on the coatrack and leaned his umbrella against the wall. He slipped off his muddy, soaking shoes and placed them neatly next to the door. Then he walked into the living room, only to get something extremely sticky and sweet to the face.

"Yes! It worked!" A boy looking no older than the age of twelve pumped his fist in the air.

"Sealand!" England shouted while wiping the remainders of the pie away. Sealand jumped up and ran away laughing. "Why in the bloody hell did you do that?"

"Because it's Halloween, and if you don't give me sweets, I'll keep on playing tricks!" Sealand yelled. England grumbled, then collected his senses and washed off his face.

"What the bloody hell were you doing anyway while I was gone?" He asked.

"I was getting ready for trick or treating. Wy, Seborga, and I are going as Pokémon trainers." He blazed down the stairs with a plush Pikachu on his shoulder. "And I'm going to be Ash." He slapped on a cap and was about to sprint out the door, but England caught him by the collar.

"There will be no trick or treating right now. It's barely even one o'clock, and most people haven't set up yet." England dragged him back inside. As soon as he loosened his grip, Sealand dashed to the door, only to get caught again.

"If you won't wait, I have no choice but to make you." England pulled out his wand and gave it a flick.

"et nunc tu sis unicornis!" He uttered. A puff of smoke issued from his wand and floated over to the micronation.

"Not again! You know how embarrassing this is!" Sealand whined as the smoke swirled and enveloped him. He whimpered a bit from within while his shadow morphed and shrank. When the smoke evaporated, a cream-colored unicorn with a short blond mane and tail stood in his place.

"If you had listened to me the first time, I wouldn't have had to do this." England blew on his wand and slipped it back into his pocket.

"What about trick or treating!?" Sealand neighed and galloped around the living room. "I can't be a pony!"

"It will wear off when it's sunset, so you'll have plenty of time to get ready." England took a step forward, but a wave of dizziness suddenly knocked him off balance. He used a nearby counter to level himself and was almost able to make it to a chair before he collapsed to the ground.

"A simple spell like that shouldn't have drained me that much," he thought as he attempted to get up. His head pounded, and his stomach ached like he had swallowed rocks. "Unless…" He managed to push himself up on quivering arms, grab his phone, and check his calendar. Marked on that day was the full moon. "Of course, it had to be the bloody m-moon." England stumbled again and collapsed on the floor, face first, in front of a terrified Sealand.

"England!" Sealand fired up his horn and turned him over. It almost looked like he was sleeping, but Sealand knew this was not the case. Blue wisps of magic floated out of his mouth and drifted upwards. "You had to cast another spell," He sighed before levitating him onto the couch, pulling a blanket over him. "Now, how many things can a unicorn do?" A mischievous, glinting smile came to his face.

* * *

Japan poked at the Chinese stir-fried vegetables on his plate with his chopstick. The moment after sunset, his stomach had begun to cramp, and now the food that China had cooked up didn't seem as appetizing as before.

"Why aren't you eating, aru?" China asked as he popped another prawn in his mouth.

"I don't feel so good," Japan replied, placing a hand over his churning stomach.

"Here, you should try some tea. It helps." China pushed a mug of steaming water and herbs towards Japan. He took it and sipped. Its strong, bitter taste with a hint of honey warmed him up from the inside and sent tingles of pleasure coursing throughout his body.

"Thank you." Japan set the empty mug down. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew a curtain aside, and the full moon's silver light brushed Japan's back for a second before the curtain fell back again and covered it up. Something cold faintly touched the back of Japan's neck, as if someone brushed ice against him. His heart began racing, and an icy chill enveloped his bones. It flowed to his head, and his ears pinched and tingled.

"Hey, Japan, you ok?" Korea snapped his fingers in front of Japan's face. "You've been acting weird ever since the sun went down."

"Sorry." Japan shook his head, and two furry black wolf ears unfurled and twitched. Taiwan paled, and Hong Kong snapped a picture.

"Have you had those ears on all dinner Japan?" She asked.

"What ears?"

"She's talking about the ones on your head." Korea reached over the table and gave one a good tug.

"Ow!" He jumped back, and his ears flattened and pressed against his scalp. His stomach dropped, and his heart beat even faster. "Um, excuse me." Japan got up from the table and ran to the bathroom. He flicked the light on and touched the sides of his head in a desperate attempt to find his human ears, but the sides of his head were smooth. "But that's impossible!"

Footsteps approached the door, and a knock caught his attention just as the realization struck him in the chest.

He was turning into a wolf.

"Hey, are you ok?" China knocked on it.

"Y-y-yeah, I'm fine," Japan stuttered as a tight, throbbing pain built up in his feet. "I need to get someplace more private." He opened the door and ducked past China, then zoomed up the stairs to his room and slammed the door shut. Japan ripped his indoor shoes and socks off his feet.

He gasped. His feet were twisted and misshapen. Black fur had sprouted in patches and seemed to be getting thicker as each second rolled by. The pain returned, stabbing now, and a crunch filled the air as they stretched and narrowed, ankles popping and toes pressing closer. Japan fell to the floor from the sudden shift in balance. He scrunched his eyes shut but cracked one when his hands started trembling and itching with fur. His palms and fingertips burned as they swelled into dark paw pads.

His nails lengthened and darkened, curving downwards and denting the floor. "I — I am not fine!" He cried. A strange pressure mounted in his tailbone as his back cracked with a sharp, painful jab. Suddenly, the pressure gave way, and he arched his back like a cat's as his spine bulged from his skin and a furry tail tore through his pants. He howled, loud enough that he could be heard clearly downstairs.

"Do you think Japan is ok?" Taiwan asked China.

"He probably stubbed his toe, da-ze," Korea joked, earning him a glare from China.

"I don't think even you scream that loud when you stub yours," Hong Kong remarked while Snapchatting with one hand and eating with the other.

"I'll go check on him when I'm done," China grabbed his trusty wok and leaned it against his chair.

"There is no way that he had those ears on the whole time. They blended in with his hair way too well," Taiwan whispered.

"Wait, did he finally find a way to turn himself into a neko? Da-ze?" Korea asked, bouncing in his chair.

"Even if he did find a way, I highly doubt he did this on purpose." Hong Kong paused while keeping a straight face. " He also was surprised when you tugged on one."

"Ok then, what if he's a werewolf?" Taiwan suggested. "He's been acting weird the whole day, and it's a full moon tonight."

"If he's a werewolf, then why didn't we hear any news about disappearances in Japan? Da-ze?" Korea asked.

"Because," replied Hong Kong, "he only became one recently."

"So, this is his first transformation? That is so cool! I want to be one! Da-ze!" Exclaimed Korea. Hong Kong slapped his hand over his mouth. China looked up from his meal, raised an eyebrow, then focused his attention back to his food.

"Not cool, not cool at all." Hong Kong hissed. "There is a high chance he'll lose control and potentially attack someone."

"And how do you know that?" Korea asked.

"England once cursed France in the hope that he would go on a rampage and ruin his reputation." Hong Kong explained. "It didn't work, though England did have the last laugh. France went to the next meeting looking like an elf."

"So, any idea how to capture a werewolf if Japan does decide to go on the hunt?" Taiwan asked.

"I'll need these things. Can you get them for me?" Hong Kong scribbled a list of seemingly random items.

"Can we get this on tape as well?" Korea took out his phone.

"Fine." Hong Kong rolled his eyes and shoved the list into his hands. "Just get these items as quick as possible."

"Alright! Uri nara mansae!" Korea sped out of the room at superhuman speed and then zoomed back with the objects. "What do we need these for?"

"You'll see." Hong Kong smirked and whispered the plan into Taiwan's and Korea's ears.

* * *

The changes had stopped for a moment. Japan exhaled, out of breath, and glanced behind himself to catch sight of his newly-grown tail.

Out of curiosity, he willed it to move. The limb twitched frantically at first, then dragged across the floor. But every inch it moved, a burning pain shot through his spine, setting his nerves on fire. He let go, and his tail went limp as he struggled to catch his breath and his torture continued when fresh moonlight glistened off his sweat-soaked skin.

An electric prickling sensation tingled at the base of his spine where fur began to grow. It sprouted all over his back in a wave-like fashion and picked up speed as it wrapped itself around Japan's torso and neck, only stopping at the base of his head. Then his very insides started twisting and morphing, and with a horrible, muscle-searing sensation, his whole body began to grow. His shirt strained to cover his swelling chest, and when he gripped it, his claws tore the fabric apart like wet paper. Out of breath, he collapsed again just as his hands cricked into gigantic paws. His left ear twitched and picked up the sounds of someone coming up the stairs and the door creaking open.

China stood in the doorway, armed with a wok, seeing nothing but pitch-black.

"Japan, are you ok?" He cautiously flicked on the lights, only to find Japan almost completely transformed on the floor, trembling from fear and pain. China's eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. When he managed to say, "What in the world is going on?" it came out as a horse whisper. Through his confusion, he forced himself to Japan's side.

"I-I don't know," Japan sobbed. He fell into China's lap and looked him in the eye just as the familiar prickling returned and the fur crept up his cheeks. He turned his face away and shoved China aside. His face creaked and pushed out as his cry morphed into a howl and his head fell to the floor.

"Japan?" China crept over and poked him with his wok. Japan's eyes snapped open and he growled, baring his teeth. His eyes glowed brown, but unlike before, no pupil could be seen.

China backed up as much as he could until his back slammed against the wall. Japan raised his paw and swiped at him, but China sheltered behind his wok just in time. Japan's claws tore through the metal like a knife slicing butter, and he snapped the handle in half with his jaws.

"Aiya! That was my best wok!" China hollered and tossed the piece of wood that remained, aside. Right when Japan was about to strike the older nation, Korea, Taiwan and Hong Kong burst into the room wielding laser pointers, a video camera, and a speaker blasting "Nya Nya Cat." Japan roared and pawed at his ears, trying to escape the whirlwind of chaos while China shielded his eyes.

"Surprise! You're on the Internet! You're going to be famous!" Korea pointed to Hong Kong, holding the camera. Japan charged at the nation, but Taiwan threw a lasso around his body, tying his arms up. She then ran around the beast's legs and tied a tight knot, bringing him to the ground with a loud thump. "Awe yeah! We caught a werewolf!" Korea stood next to Japan's head and snapped a few selfies like a hunter with his trophy while Hong Kong stood and video-taped.

Japan tried to break through the ropes, but they wouldn't rip. Instead, the fibers took on a silvery aura and tightened around him like a snake.

"How come he isn't breaking through, aru?" China asked.

"The rope is enchanted," replied Hong Kong. "It's as strong as titanium." He snapped a picture with the phone. Japan shook his head and roared in fury, snapping his mighty jaws at Hong Kong, who jumped away in the nick of time.

"Wait, flash him again," Taiwan instructed. Hong Kong snapped another picture, and Japan roared once again, but this time, his eyes flickered back and forth from human to animal.

"Come on Japan! Fight it!" Korea shouted encouragingly. Hong Kong flashed the camera one more time, and Japan let out an animalistic howl and stopped struggling. The magic faded completely, and his eyes returned to normal.

"What?" Japan whispered, startled by his deeper voice. "What happened?"

"Well, you lost control and attacked China, so we brought you down and tied you up!" Korea stated through a duck face as he snapped a selfie.

"Can you please let me out?" Japan tried to wriggle himself free, but it only caused the ropes to get tighter and cut into his skin.

"I don't trust you Japan, if that's even who you are right now." Hong Kong raised an eyebrow.

"Hong Kong!" China scolded. "Let him out this instant, aru!"

"Fine." Hong Kong replied. He rolled his eyes and muttered a few words.

The ropes lost their magical effect and slid off like wet noodles, and Japan got up, towering above China. He stared down at his paws in fearful disbelief, then stumbled backwards on his new legs and fell into the wall behind him.

"So! What's it like?" Korea gazed at him with stars in his eyes.

"W-what do you mean?" Japan asked.

"You know, being a werewolf?" Korea pointed at him.

Japan didn't know how to answer such a question. After the anguish of transforming, he didn't know what to say. The feeling was indescribable. "It is… weird," he finally answered as he cautiously checked out more of his body. His shirt was strewn around the room, but his shorts stayed relatively intact, despite having a large, furry tail sticking out of them. He gave it another experimental swish, and this time, it thankfully didn't hurt.

"I wish I could be a werewolf," Korea sighed, then a grin formed on his face. "Hey Japan, bite me!" He rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm.

"Japan will not be biting anyone! Aru!" China took him by the arm and led him out of the room. "I think he needs a little privacy right now."

"arigatō"(Thank you), but I—" Japan was cut off by China slamming the door. He huffed and swished his tail. His ears flicked. "I guess I have some time to myself, though I am unsure if I can get used to this."

Testing the mechanics of his new body, he crawled over to dig through his bag and take out his manga. Maybe reading could distract him from his wolfishness. He did his best not to rip the books in half, but of course, there were a few tears when he finished one. As he got to one of his favorite scenes, his tail began wagging and thumping on the bed involuntarily as his grip tightened on the book. Eventually, he tore it clean in half like a sheet of paper and groaned.

Tired of all the night's events, he stuffed his muzzle into his pillow while trying to find a comfortable position on the now too-small bed. He eventually gave up and fell asleep on the floor, curling up like a dog and falling asleep under the full moon's light.


	8. Elves, Hooves and a Vampire

When Japan woke up, he knew something was off. Of course, turning into a wolf wasn't normal, but then again, all logic had been thrown out the window the previous night. He peered down to see his perfectly small, furless hands before him. Japan tensed, then cautiously examined the rest of his body to find he had completely reverted to human form.

"Perhaps it was just a dream," he sighed. But this reasoning was forgotten when he shook the excess fur off like an animal shedding and got up to stretch his back in the morning sunlight. Every muscle in his body ached like it had been stretched and strained beyond its limits.

He dug through his bag and found another change of clothes. Convincing himself of its normalcy, he slipped out of the tattered pair of pants and into a warm, comfy sweater.

"Hey Japan!" Yelled Korea from downstairs. "Breakfast is on the table!"

"I'm coming," Japan replied with a yawn. He descended the stairs and sat himself at the table before grabbing a steamed pork bun off the platter and ripping into it. Korea bit his tongue and tried not to laugh while Hong Kong took out his phone and snapped a picture once again.

"What is it?" Japan asked the snickering nation.

"Yo-yo-you-You look like an elf!" He howled in laughter.

"What?" Japan's fingers explored his hair in curiosity, but before he had the chance to touch his ears, Korea reached over the table and tugged on one.

"Ooh, they're soft." He touched them lightly, causing Japan to slink down in his chair and turn beet red from embarrassment.

"Hey! Korea, stop that!" Taiwan ordered just as she rushed down the stairs, dragging an oversized suitcase behind her. "He's very sensitive about personal space."

"Fine," huffed Korea, and he sat down. "What's the suitcase for?"

"After last night, I felt like I should learn more self-defense in case something bad happens," she explained as she lugged the suitcase to the door. "So I asked Hungary, and she's willing to teach me."

"Hopefully that doesn't mean flinging frying pans at everyone who makes you mad," Hong Kong muttered under his breath.

"Wait, how long will you be away?" Japan asked.

"About two, maybe three weeks," she replied as she slipped on her shoes and waltzed out the door, shutting it behind her with a hard thump.

"Who was that at the door?" China asked as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Taiwan," Hong Kong answered, texting away.

"And what is she doing out of the house?"

"Going to Hungary's place for a while."

"What!?" China's top flew off. "She should have asked me first, aru!"

Japan's ears drooped, and he seized them in pain.

"Can you please not shout?" He asked.

"Sorry. Don't you have a flight to catch?"

"I don't think I should fly since I have these." Japan pointed to his ears.

"Yeah! Stay here! We didn't even get to show you the Great Wall!" Korea jumped up and ran to his room, returning with a handful of pictures. "See! Look at all those amazing views!"

"I don't think we'll be able to do that. It's over an hour's drive from here," Hong Kong said, reading off Google Maps. "Plus, I don't think Japan will be happy if we make him go out with his ears like that. People will be suspicious."

* * *

"I shouldn't have performed so much magic," England groaned as he sat up and tossed the blanket aside. His head pounded, and his limbs felt like sandbags.

He heaved himself up and stumbled over to the table, finding a piping hot mug full of tea waiting for him. A small note was stuck on the front, written in Sealand's almost illegible penmanship.

 _By the time you're reading this note, I'm out trick or treating! If you're wondering what happened, you collapsed on the ground from a magic drain, so I made you some tea to make you feel better. It was a little harder with hooves, but it should replace whatever magical energy you lost._

"That was nice of the little bugger," England thought aloud. He sat at his tea table and sipped the gift with a few custard creams, assuring himself that it was only polite. Surprisingly, he felt a rush of energy flood through his body.

"That was a much better cup than any of the colonies could make. I'll give him that. Right, I've nothing else to do. Might as well catch up on that embroidery." England set off in cheerful spirits to fetch his ring and floss.

He wasn't far into his stitching he when his toes began tingling faintly. He shifted his feet, but the sensation persisted, leaving feet completely numb. He took a break, kicking off his shoes, but leaving his socks on.

SHRIP!

"What the!?"

England looked down and gasped, finding that erupting out of his socks were two mint-green hooves. "That sneaky little twit must have spiked my tea!"

He cast the socks aside. England got up but lost his balance when his ankles creaked and twisted. He used the wall to help himself up as he maneuvered his way down the hall. Each step he took, he felt himself growing shorter. His skin tickled as a coat of silky minty-white fur began to cover him from the hooves upward.

His ears pinched and stretched into spritely equine variations, and a single horn emerged from his forehead. His clothes, now too large, hung loose off his shrinking form. He winced as a blond tail grew out from his backside and kept his vest from slipping off completely. He cursed when his hands curled and stiffened into the other pair of hooves.

"I've got to stop this," he grunted as he struggled to step forward, his bending spine and widening ribs forcing him to the ground. His nose then pushed out into a cute little muzzle, completing the transformation. England slipped out of his clothes and trotted to the kitchen, levitating the cup down from the table with his horn. He took the sticky note off and flipped it over, finding an extra letter from Sealand written on the back.

 _Ha! I got you good! Now you know what it's like to be tiny and weak._

"This had better not be permanent," England growled, boiling with anger. He continued reading.

 _Don't worry, the potion will wear off after a few hours._

 _Enjoy the humiliation_

 _-Sealand._

The unicorn took the note in his magical grasp and crumpled it into a small ball before dropping it to the floor. His face turned scarlet red as steam shot out of his ears and he raised a balled hoof to the air.

"Sealand!"

He was so loud, the birds perched on his roof flew off in fear.

* * *

"Oh my! Sealand does take after me," Romania laughed as he fell back, floating in midair. In the center of the small stone room, a crystal ball displayed the events as they unfolded while only a candle provided illumination. He waved his hand, and the spell dropped.

Setting his feet on the ground, he bent downwards and plucked the orb from the ground, placing it on top of its pillow, which sat next to a few random potions and a skull. He dusted the skull off and shined it with his sleeve, then walked over to his desk and flipped an hourglass with a flick of his finger.

"England," he smirked, baring a fang. "You shouldn't keep dawdling. Remember your deal?" He rolled a pencil with his finger. "Maybe a little nightmare will remind you." He sprinkled a fine powder over the candle, then blew it out. "Sleep tight," he chuckled, and the last thing visible of him was his maniacal fanged grin glinting in the moonlight.


	9. Angry Brits, Crazy Italians & Pasta

**Heads up! Romano cuss words up ahead!**

* * *

"British jerk of jerks, I'm home!" Sealand called out, immediately getting caught in a magic trap and floating up into the air. "Hey, let me out!" He thrashed around and flailed his limbs, trying to break through whatever force was holding him.

"No, I will not." England trotted out from around the corner. Sealand burst out laughing, falling backwards in midair.

"Oh my gosh! You look adorable as a pony!" He wheezed.

"This isn't funny at all, Sealand. Change me back right this instant!" Demanded the British Nation.

"Sorry," Sealand chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't use a spell."

"What did you use?" England snorted, pawing the ground like a bull as steam shot out of his nostrils.

"That unicorn potion you made a while back." He smirked.

"Just how much did you pour in?"

"Well, I sort of, kind of, dropped the bottle inside, and it spilt everywhere." He looked down and twiddled his thumbs. England galloped down to his magic room, disarming the security spell and grabbing the bottle while dragging Sealand behind him. He shook it, finding it half empty and did the math.

"If a teaspoon was equal to one day of transformation… " Then he paled, ears drooping. "Two weeks!" He whinnied, causing Sealand to burst out in more laughter. England shot him an icy scowl. "This is no laughing matter! I can't show up to Parliament tomorrow as a horse!"

"Then call in sick," suggested Sealand.

"I would never! I promised the Queen I would show up tomorrow, on my honor!" He stomped his hoof on the stone floor.

"Fine, then I'll do it." Sealand attempted to swim through the air back upstairs, but England took the boy by his foot and dragged him back upstairs, disarming the trap and letting him drop to the ground. "Ouch, you could have warned me." He rubbed his rear. England rolled his eyes and approached him, horn fired up.

"No, not now!" Sealand ran away and crashed into a wall, effectively knocking himself out.

"How many times do you have to try and run away from your problems?" He wondered as he touched his horn to the boy's forehead. With a ripple-like effect, Sealand transformed back into his pony form, but this time, without a horn. "Maybe you'll think about your actions." England carefully took the sleeping colt and laid him on the couch, drawing a blanket over him. It was at this moment that the door clicked open and Scotland strode inside, surprisingly almost sober.

"Hey, are you home, England?" He called out.

"He can't find me like this!" England frantically tried to think of any idea how to hide. He dove behind the couch and then caught sight of the bottle of potion he had left out on the counter.

Scotland seemed to have noticed it too, as he picked it up and sniffed it, trying to tell what it is. Eventually, he shrugged, downing it in one go and walking to the bathroom as if nothing had happened. "Oh, bloody hell, he's going to kill me," England thought as a flurry of Scottish swears escaped the bathroom door.

"England! Why in the bloody world am I a sheep with a unicorn horn!"

* * *

Italy lay in bed snoring loudly as the dying rays of sunlight shone on his face. His nose twitched, and he sniffed the air.

"Pasta!" His eyes shot open as he jumped out of bed. Italy thundered down the stairs and sat himself at the table, mouth watering in excitement.

"Great, you're finally up. Take some before it gets cold." Romano dished him a heap of pasta. "And take off those fangs, I don't want to be driving back to the fucking hospital at this hour because you choked on one."

"Fratello (Brother), I'm not wearing fangs." Italy ran his tongue over his teeth and felt them with his fingers. He pricked his finger on one, immediately recoiling and sticking his finger out. A bead of blood trickled out, then stopped. He looked at his finger in confusion and pressed where the wound had been, expecting it to sting. But it was as if it never existed. "Romano?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Is it normal for us to heal this fast?" Italy asked, showing Romano his finger.

"Have you gone crazy? There's nothing there!"

"But, but, it was just — eh, never mind…" Italy shook his head and returned to his meal.

He stared at his plate for a minute and poked at a stray piece of spaghetti. "Do we have any meat?" He asked.

"Yeah, we have meatballs in the fridge, but I already cooked those truffles into this, so we're not making anything more." Romano dished himself up some pasta and began eating. When he finished, he looked up at his brother, who still poked at his meal. "Why aren't you eating?" Romano pointed to his brother's plate. "You would've gone back for seconds by now."

"Sorry, Fratello." Italy shoved the plate aside. "I'm not hungry right now." He groaned and clutched his stomach.

"You have to eat something! You've been asleep for nearly a day!" Romano pushed the plate back.

"I have?" Italy glanced at the clock and his phone. "I've been out for that long?"

"Yeah, you have! Now eat, or you'll starve." He pointed to Italy's plate. Italy swirled a strand of spaghetti on his fork and sniffed it, scrunching his nose in disgust.

"It smells funny," he complained before setting the fork back in the pasta and pushing it aside.

"Veneziano!" Romano shouted. "You are going to fucking eat this meal I made whether you like it or not!" He pushed the plate back across the table. Italy took a bite of the pasta and held it in his mouth, trying not to spit it out. He swallowed and stuck his tongue out.

"It tastes like dirt," he whined.

"What's the matter with you? You usually love pasta!" Romano threw his arms out in frustration and slammed them on the table, making Italy jump.

"I-It's just that I'm not hungry," he sighed and sipped on some water.

"Fine, I won't make you eat. Don't be asking me to cook anymore, though!" Romano got up and grabbed the remote, flopping onto their couch as he turned on the TV.

"Ooh, what are we going to watch?" Italy perked up and sat on the other side.

"I don't know," huffed Romano as he flipped through channels.

"Wait." Italy grabbed the remote and flipped two channels back. "Can we watch this?" He pointed to the screen depicting a man in a thick leather jacket armed with a crossbow and riding in a carriage. Romano flipped up the guide.

"Van Helsing? Didn't it get screwed from its terrible ratings?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Sì, but I like the plot." Italy focused his attention back to the screen.

"Fine, just no crawling into my bed at fucking three in the morning because you're afraid of monsters," Romano groaned as he tossed the remote aside.

"I won't!" Italy promised and turned up the volume. As the movie continued, the clouds in the sky faded one by one until the only things separating Italy from the full moon's light were the blinds on the windows.

* * *

"Awe, come on!" Romano shouted at the TV as the one of the characters transformed into a werewolf. "They could have put a fucking extra dollar in to make the CGI look better." He took the remote and threw it across the room.

"Fratello, calm down. It's just a movie!" Italy turned around and tried to calm his brother down.

"What's so realistic about werewolves anyway? They can't go two moons without getting killed!" Romano yelled as the movie went into commercial break.

"Are you ok?" Italy asked.

"I need a breath of fucking fresh air." Romano opened the blinds and the window, allowing moonlight to seep in.

Italy looked up at the silver orb in the sky, mouth open and gaping with nothing to say. But his trance soon ended when Romano shut the window and blinds, leaving him in the room with the TV flipping through ads.

Suddenly, his stomach growled and began to cramp. At first it was barely noticeable, but as each second ticked by, the pain got worse until he curled up into a little ball and clutched his stomach with tears stinging his eyes. Romano stepped back inside, only to find Italy shuddering and moaning in pain.

"What the fuck is going on?" He rushed by his brother's side.

"My stomach," He cried. "I-it hurts."

"Where?" Romano asked. Italy pointed to his midsection. "Not fucking again!" He ran to grab his phone. Italy only curled up tighter and whimpered as his tailbone began to ache. Romano rushed into the room dialing 118 as fast as he could. But as he was about to press the call button, Italy screamed, and Romano dropped the phone.

"What's wrong? You've got to fucking tell me!" He shouted in distress.

"T-tail!" Italy cried.

"What do you mean by—" He was cut off when the seat of Italy's pants tore, and a copper red tail burst out and swished. "What the fuck!?" his eyebrows shot upwards. Italy let out a long cry, which reduced itself to a whimper.

"Fratello, get it to stop! Get the pain to stop!" He sobbed, tears welling up in his eyes. Then he cried out even more as his legs began to rearrange themselves, gruesomely cracking and snapping into new places. Romano had to look away at one point in order not to get sick at the sight of his brother's misshapen legs.

"I have to be dreaming! I have to be dreaming!" Repeated Romano to himself over and over in shock.

Italy slumped forward abruptly, catching himself with his arms on the floor, shaking and shivering. A wave of pin-and-needle-like tingling washed over his body, and the coppery red strands of fur rapidly sprouted in patches that merged to cover him in a fur coat.

Fur sprouted in tufts along his hands. His nails darkened, almost like they had been dipped in ink. Italy brought his hand to his face and watched in terror as they lengthened into sharp, dagger-like claws. "I'm a monster," sniffled the country as the fur climbed up the back of his neck. Romano knelt beside and locked eyes with his partially-transformed brother.

"Listen to me, Italy Veneziano," he said in a stern voice. "I have no idea what the fuck is going on, but even if you are transforming into some kind of furry, clawed monster, you're still my little brother." He hugged him tight. Tears streamed down Italy's face. An invisible force pinched his ears and they moved to the top of his head, but he still held on.

Only when the tingling returned and his face creaked out into a muzzle did he let go of the embrace and shove his brother away. Italy began to whine louder than before. He hunched himself in the nearest corner and trembled uncontrollably.

"What!? What's happening now!?" Romano screeched.

But all the younger could do was scream as his ribs suddenly crunched and expanded. Stretching bones cracked and bulged from his fur before his muscles began to warp and swell. His wolfish body grew in size until it took up the entire corner of the room. His clothes, which struggled to contain his form, gave way and split at the seams, falling to the floor in tatters.

Feral thoughts entered his mind, replacing his usual, cheerful self. The more he pushed them out, the harder the alien thoughts pushed back."I don't want to hurt you," he whimpered in a brittle voice turned deep by the changes."I don't want to—"

He suddenly growled, and magic consumed his eyes. He stood up to face Romano as a giant, two-legged wolf. The only evidence he was ever human was his signature curl, which stuck out from the side of his head.

"Veneziano?" Romano asked worriedly, reaching out with a hand. "Are you ok?" The creature replied with a snarl and stepped over, towering above the nation. Strangely, Romano didn't flinch or even react, even when it roared, sending bits of spittle flying onto his face. Romano wiped his face off, glaring into the raging eyes of the beast.

"I don't know what is in control," he started, "but this isn't how my brother acts."

The wolf gave him another shower of spit, and he wiped it off again on his already soaked sleeve. "Veneziano, come on, I know you're in there."

The wolf shook and howled, pawing at its ears in vain as its eyes flickered between human and wolf. It lost its footing, stumbling back and catching itself on the wall with its claws. It tore them out, leaving giant gashes.

"Come on, fight it! You once kicked Turkey, the Ottoman Empire's ass! Surely this wolf is no match for you!" Romano crossed his fingers, hoping the memory jog would work. The wolf roared once more, but magic leaked away into the air from its eyes as its whole body fell forward. Romano had to jump back in order not to get pinned under the beast. Dust flew up, causing the southern nation to cough and swat at the air.

"How long has it been since the carpet's been cleaned?" He wondered. But there were far more pressing matters. "Veneziano?" Romano asked once again to the sleeping wolf. One eye shot open, and he tackled his brother to the ground, pinning him under his body mass.

"Fratello! I'm so sorry if I attacked you," he whined as his ears flattened and his tail tucked in. Romano scrunched his nose at his brother's dog breath.

"I know," he sighed while pinching his nose. "Could you please get off me?"

"Oh, sorry!" He crawled off and stood up, suddenly realizing the weight of what had just happened. His paws were enormous, his jaws were full of sharp, gleaming teeth, his muscles were strong as steel, and that horrible tail was swinging behind him. Italy's nerves suddenly burned with his usual cowardly instincts, and he threw himself down on the floor again and howled in fear of what he had become.

"That's my brother," Romano breathed. Shaking, he crawled over to the copper-furred wolf, and with a nervous hand, reached out to scratch him behind the ear. Italy continued to howl, but as his brother's hand rubbed gently through his fur and scratched his pointy ear, he gradually released his fear, and he wagged his tail in pleasure.

"You're ok," Romano assured him with wide-eyed disbelief.

Eventually, Italy came out of his shock completely, and while seeing his giant, furry paws was enough to make him yelp in fear, he forced himself to accept that at least the pain was over, and werewolves usually reverted to human form when the moon went down. By this time, Romano had climbed back up on the couch and was watching the movie again. Italy maneuvered his huge form to curl up right next to him, burying Romano under a pile of fluff.

"Get off."

"But why? I'm already comfortable."

"You smell like a dog, and your fur is suffocating me."

"Awe, fine." Italy crawled off and curled up next to couch. "Fratello?" He asked.

"Yeah, what the fuck do you want?" Romano answered without shifting his gaze from the TV.

"Can you scratch my ear some more? It felt really good."

Romano reached out his hand, but their strange form of brotherly bonding came to a sudden halt when Romano's phone rang. "What the fuck do you want, Potato Bastard!?" He shouted into the phone.

"It's the awesome Prussia speaking, but Germany just collapsed on the floor, and his hair is alive!" Prussia sounded panicked.

"Yeah, yeah," Romano rolled his eyes. "Call me back when you have a better story." He hung up before Prussia could say anything more. A second later, his phone rang again, and he picked up again, ticked off. "You better have a reasonable explanation this time." Romano growled.

"Ja, I do! Mein Bruder just grew claws!" Prussia switched the call to video. Germany lay on the floor, arms quivering like Jell-O, while his nails finished growing long and wolf-like. His long blond mane floated and twisted through the air like snakes.

"Wait," interjected Italy. "If I just transformed, and Germany is transforming right now, what about Japan?"

"It-Italy is right," Germany choked out before blond fur sprouted from his arms and Prussia had to hang up.

"Great, Potato Bastard's a wolf now, too!" Romano said sarcastically as he checked his notifications. "And, he was right. Japan transformed a few hours ago." He showed the video to Italy, and they watched together as Hong Kong, Korea, and Taiwan took down the raven-colored wolf. The caption at the bottom read "Werewolf hunting!" and it had already gone viral, having over a million views. Italy winced as he saw Japan's head hit the floor.

"Oh, I hope he's ok." He looked away. Romano turned off his phone and slipped it back into his pocket as he focused his gaze back to the TV. The adverts had returned.

"Awe, come on! I want to watch the movie, not some damn advertisements!" He hollered.

"Veh, then how about we watch this?" Italy pulled out a disk case labeled Twilight. "Remember? That new state gave it to us!"

"Sì, I remember her, but no way in hell are we watching that!" Romano snatched the disk and chucked it out the window.

"Awe," Italy's ears drooped, but they perked up as the advertisements switched back to the movie.

"Finally," Romano huffed. After another few minutes of movie time, Italy pointed to his head, and his tail wagged.

"Fine, come here." Romano rolled his eyes, reaching out to pet his brother's head. Italy sat down in front of him and let out a small purr.

"Veh, that feels good." He closed his eyes and slumped over, snoring and letting out the occasional "Veh." Romano turned off the TV and tip-toed upstairs, crawling under the sheets of his bed.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Romano heard the mattress groan and the sheets rustle.

"Who's there?" He sat up and grabbed a tomato, which he happened to keep next to his bedside and held it up. "I have a tomato, and I'm not afraid to use it!"

"Fratello? Can I sleep with you?" Italy stood at the foot of his bed. "I had a nightmare. I-I transformed into a werewolf, and Germany and Japan were werewolves, too." His tail brushed against the floor as his ears flicked around to pick up a grasshopper's chirping. He whimpered and looked up at his brother as his pupils dilated.

Romano was about to tell his brother that he had indeed transformed into a werewolf, and that he was still a werewolf, and that whoever turned him would pay dearly, but he realized Italy couldn't see himself in the darkness of the house, and so he let the lie continue.

"Fine," he said. Italy crawled underneath the sheets and fell asleep, wrapping his paws around his brother and cradling him like a doll. Romano tried to pry his brother's paws off him, but after several attempts, he gave up and let the warm, welcoming feeling of sleep take hold.

* * *

 **Awe...I feel so sorry for putting Italy through this.**


	10. A German Wolf and an Annoying Prussian

**Just in time for Valentine's day! This chapter also is much longer than normal so I hope you enjoy!**

 **(Fair warning that Scotland curses a little in the beginning)**

* * *

"England!"

Scotland stepped out of the bathroom and shouted angrily while scanning the room for his brother. He was not, in fact, a sheep with a unicorn horn, but rather an extremely fluffy unicorn. "Why the fuck am I my national animal? Change me back!"

"I'm sorry," England stated, trotting out from behind the couch, "but as you can clearly see, I'm not any better off." He gestured to his tiny body with a hoof.

"Not better off!" Scotland snorted. "You're not the one who has to deal with all this fur!" He shook himself, and his wooly coat poofed out to make him look like a cotton ball.

"Look, it was your fault. You're the one who drank the potion." England levitated the bottle down and shook it. Scotland's ears flattened.

"Then how long am I stuck in this damn form?"

"Two weeks," England said flatly.

"Two weeks!" Scotland reared back. "Don't we have some other option that might turn me back quicker?"

"Us," England corrected. "And no, unless we have a reversal potion, but by the time we would finish brewing one, we would be back to normal."

Scotland let a few curses fly from his mouth, and England had to his magic to shut him up. "Sealand is sleeping." He pointed to the knocked-out colt on the couch.

"So, the squirt got his hands on this stuff as well?" Scotland mused.

"No," England sighed, looking down towards the floor. "I changed him myself as soon as he got back."

"Why? What happened?"

England stopped, his head hanging low as his cheeks flushed.

"He… he slipped the potion into my tea," he muttered in a low voice.

Scotland bit his lip, trying to hold back a laugh, but eventually it slipped, and he let out a loud whinny. He stopped, horrified by the sound. He wasn't a damn animal, after all!

"Whatever. This is getting too weird. I'm going to bed." Scotland trotted up the stairs and tried using a hoof to grasp the door knob, but couldn't get a grip. He moved onto using two, placing a hoof on either side and trying to turn it. That plan didn't work either. "Open ye bloody pumpin' door!" He swore. He turned around and bucked the door with his back hooves, knocking it off its hinges. He then trotted in and hopped onto his bed, burying his muzzle into his pillow.

"You know, you could've just used your horn," England chuckled as he appeared in the doorway with a sleeping Sealand by his side. He placed the micronation on the ground and lifted the door up, setting it back in place.

"Piss off," Scotland groaned as he grabbed his pillow, pulling it over his head. England rolled his eyes. He took Sealand and placed him in bed before he walked to his own room. He never felt himself hit his own bed.

* * *

For Germany, the day had gone on as usual despite having a huge mane of hair that needed a trim every hour or so. He managed to cut it just as his boss called him for a meeting that would've been extremely embarrassing if he didn't call a dinner break. Now back at his house, still in his suit, Germany felt his patience wear thin. His hair had grown back almost instantly after he'd cut it. On top of that, when he finished cooking sausages for himself, (while trying to hold back his wild cravings before they were done,) Prussia decided to snatch his phone and connect it to their TV, turning it into a makeshift DJ booth. Now EDM and glitch hop were blasting throughout their house, much to Germany's annoyance.

"Could you turn that down?" He asked, trying to focus on his meal.

"Awe, come on, West, I know your hearing is sensitive, but some of it sounds pretty good, and the creator's German!"

Germany gripped his fork tighter in an effort to keep from reaching over and slapping him. He inhaled and exhaled a few times, attempting to calm his nerves. "Look, I promise you can play it another time, just not now," he sighed as he tried to keep his emotions under control. He couldn't explain it, but this task had been growing more and more difficult all day.

"Fine." Prussia got up and fetched his brother's phone. Suddenly, Germany paused, face contorting in disgust as he bit down on something metallic-tasting and crunchy. He spat it out into a napkin and found it to be a hunk of metal. The whole head of his fork was now missing.

"What the?" He scrunched his brows in confusion.

"Woah, West, forget about super hearing and magic hair. You've got iron teeth!" He cackled as he stopped the music and slid Germany's phone across the table. Germany gave him an unimpressed glare and continued eating. "Awe, come on, I'm just trying to have a little fun with you."

"And I'm trying to eat," he growled as he got up and grabbed another fork.

"Fine. You know, you don't have to be so grouchy." Prussia pouted and turned on the TV, cranking up the volume a hair.

"This is the last time, Prussia! Turn it down!" Germany shouted, standing up and pushing the chair away.

"Fine!" He shouted back, but instead of turning down the volume, he turned it up. Germany slammed his hands to his ears, trying to drown out the noise as a migraine began to set in.

"That's it! I need a break!" He stormed over to the sliding glass door and fiddled with the lock for a second before pushing it aside. Germany stumbled outside just as the clouds parted away from the full moon. Its cold, silver light reached out and called him away from reality in a mysterious, magical embrace. He couldn't look away, not even when his brother approached.

"Hey, West, what are you staring at? Wow, it's full." He wolf-whistled and noticed his brother wasn't listening to him, let alone blinking at all. "Hey? You there?" He stepped in front, blocking the moon's view. Germany blinked a few times and snapped out of whatever had caught him.

"Yeah, I'm—"

This was all he said before his heart began to burn. He seized his chest in pain as he collapsed, the searing sensation sparking through his veins and lighting up his skin. His pulse quickened, then doubled under the pressure. He could hear it thundering in his ears as if he had just finished a sprint.

"West! Talk to me!" Prussia looped his arms around his brother's shoulders and helped him up, carrying him inside. Germany immediately fell to the floor again. Sweat trickled down his shaking arms. His muscles spasmed, and his cheeks flushed from the heat.

"C-call."

"Call an ambulance? Is it food poisoning from the sausages!?"

"N-no, call Italy. I think…" He pointed at the moon.

Prussia gasped. "No way! You're a werewolf!"

Germany nodded as his stomach gurgled and twisted. He seized his abdomen, trying to hold back whatever was changing inside. A sheen of golden magic enveloped his hair, and strands of it began to float like he was underwater. Prussia took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. In frantic concern, he tapped Italy's number. However, on the other end of the line, an extremely annoyed Italian picked up the phone.

"What the fuck do you want, Potato Bastard?"

"It's the awesome Prussia speaking, but Germany just collapsed on the ground, and his hair is alive!" He spoke fast with worry in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah. Call me back when you have a better story." He hung up before Prussia could say anything more.

Germany's breathing turned to wheezing. His fingertips began to sting. Right before his eyes, his nails turned charcoal black and lengthened into sharp and deadly claws, bright red beads of blood forming at the edges. His toenails soon followed suit and ripped through his socks. This was unbelievable. He thought the dream was simply a coincidence, but the proof was right in front of him. He had just grown claws.

He wasn't allowed relief, however. The palms of his hands and balls of his feet burned like they were being scorched by hot metal as the skin toughened and swelled into firm, black pads. He kicked his socks off, shredding them to pieces with his new claws.

Prussia quickly dialed the grouchy Italian once more. He picked up, pissed off even more than before.

"You better have a reasonable explanation this time."

"Ja, I do." He turned the camera on. "Mein Bruder just grew claws!" He angled the phone and showed Germany on the floor, his arms quivering and his hair pulsing with magic. He craned his head, looking at the camera to see Italy, or rather, a wolfish, muscular version of Italy buried under a plush coat of copper red fur.

"Wait," Italy said in a surprisingly deep voice. "If I just transformed, and Germany is transforming right now, what about Japan?"

Germany's heart dropped. Japan was probably fine, but he couldn't stop shivering at the thought of what Italy had gone through to become so monstrous. And now it was time for his own body to undergo the same gruesome transformation.

"It-Italy's right," he choked out before a nasty burning itch spread up his arms, leaving fur in its wake. He tore up his sleeves with his claws to watch it thicken. Prussia hung up the call, rushing over to his brother's side. Germany forced his mutating hand up and shoved him away.

"Go. Chances are, when this is over, I'm going to hurt you," he hissed through gritted teeth as blond fur rapidly climbed up his arms.

"Bruder, I know you wouldn't even try to." Prussia crept closer, only to get shoved away again.

"Go!" He shouted. Prussia backed up as he forced himself to watch the transformation unfold.

The itching spread under Germany's suit up to his neck, where blond fur began to sprout and cover his face. There came a horrible soreness in his mouth as his teeth sharpened and rearranged themselves. His nose darkened, and he tried not to scream when a powerful pressure mounted in his jaw. A faint, wet cricking sound issued as the bridge of his nose crushed itself and melded with his stretching face. The bones pressed forward, cracking under the strain, and reformed into the shape of a muzzle coated in a dusting of fuzzy blond fur. With another painful pulse, his ears pulled back and curved, forming two wolfish points that angled upward on his head.

His heartbeat still raced, and the burning sensation intensified throughout his body. Germany stole a glance at his furry arms and cried out when he saw the muscles beneath beginning to writhe and pulsate, swelling and contracting rhythmically as if his body was still trying to fight the moonlight's magic. He snapped his jaws, knowing it would ultimately lose. His skin was already growing tighter and tighter. His quivering form gave out, and his burning muscles swelled freely, straining the seams of his suit.

He bit his tongue and braced himself as he felt his chest bubbling with fresh pain. He heaved as his torso expanded. His racing heart became larger to support his growing body, and his lungs filled out to receive enough oxygen to keep him alive for the changes. Around them, his ribs cracked and crunched like celery, sending fresh agony shooting up his nerves. His skeleton had begun its growth spurt. His spine popped and bulged through his jacket. The confining seams finally split, and he tore himself out of the constricting clothing with his claws as fur quickly swept over his back and traveled down to his deforming legs.

He threw his head up and howled. His muscles continued to balloon, and his skeleton snapped and shifted, the bones thickening and lengthening to monstrous proportions. His feet stretched, and his heels lifted up, and his toes pressed together. Lastly, a bushy blond tail fell to the floor with a thump and flicked back and forth, scattering dirt and dust like a broom.

"Bruder, you still there?" Prussia asked, reaching a hand out. The wolf raised its head and let out a mournful cry before setting its sight on him, its eyes glowing an icy blue.

Prussia tensed as he backed up. Also having read a decent amount of folklore about shapeshifters, he was scared past his wits. The wolf trotted over, steely muscles rippling beneath the fur. Prussia tried to bolt, but was promptly taken down by the oversized wolf and pinned under its body mass. He squirmed around, trying to escape, but a paw placed on top of his chest prevented him from doing so.

"So the joke's over. I'm actually going to die," he thought, struggling to breathe. "At least it'll be an awesome death." He closed his eyes, feeling the wolf's hot, moist breath on his face. He clenched his teeth, ready for the worst to come, but unexpectedly, all he received was a hot bath of slobber to the face. The wolf lifted itself, allowing Prussia to clamber to his feet. Slobber dribbled all over him. He promptly ran over to the bathroom, vigorously scrubbing his face and brushing his teeth.

"Ach, gross, unawesome dog breath." He spat out the minty mouth wash and stepped out, finding an oversized wolf with ice-blue glowing eyes waiting for him with a tennis ball in its mouth. It dropped it at the Prussian's feet and looked up panting with its tail wagging behind.

"And here I thought you were going to rip my awesome face off," Prussia chuckled. He picked up the slobbery ball with two fingers and flung it outside into their backyard. He swiftly began to record a video on his phone. The wolf barked and kicked up their carpet. It knocked over the coffee table as it scrambled outside to get the ball. It trotted back, panting as it dropped the ball on the floor.

"Wow, this is epic!" He scratched the wolf behind its ear. "I wish I could be a werewolf. You're so lucky." He gave the wolf a hug, sinking into its fur. It looked down, tilting his head to the side while letting out a small woof. Prussia got up and was about to walk away when the wolf lunged at him and locked his jaws onto the back of his leg.

"Gah! What the, you bit me!" He cried out in pain as he kicked around, attempting to free himself from the wolf's grip. Blood began to stain the fabric of his jeans, and the wolf clamped down tighter to make sure he couldn't escape. Prussia didn't have to wait for long. The magic in the wolf's eyes slowly faded and Germany regained control, releasing his grip.

"What happened?" He asked himself in a deeper voice. He shook his head as he noticed a metallic taste in his mouth. "Oh no, I didn't… "

He frantically looked around for his brother, finding him limping on the other side of the room with a gaping bite wound. He rushed to the bathroom, tripping over his own paws as he struggled to find his center of mass. Using the counter for stability, he sifted through the items and found the first aid kit, grabbing the bandage and gauze and wetting a washcloth. He rushed back out to his brother, using his claws to carefully take off the bloody material. He washed it out, applied anointment, and bandaged his leg carefully, making sure not to accidentally tear the bandage.

"You bit me," Prussia smiled, wiping away some light fur from his shirt.

"I did! Did I hurt you anywhere else? Do I have to take you to the doctor?" He ripped off his brother's shirt, checking the area for additional injuries.

"West, are you crazy? I can't say a werewolf bit me, and you can't drive." Prussia rolled his eyes. "Actually, you acted more like a dog than a wolf." He pulled out his phone and showed the video he recorded. Germany cringed, watching himself bark and chase the ball. Prussia couldn't stop cackling at his brother's horrified face.

"I-I-I," Germany stuttered, utterly speechless at his actions. First biting his brother, and now finding out that he behaved like an animal! He finished bandaging his brother's wound in silence.

"Awe, come on West, you should have some fun with it. " He poked his brother's furry shoulder. "Who cares if you're a giant dog? Don't you feel strong and powerful?"

"Well, ja, I actually do feel super strong, but—" His ears flatted abruptly, and he yelped in pain as he slammed his paws to the sides of his head, (then moving them upwards after realizing that his ears were a bit bigger than they used to be.)

"What is it?"

"It's my ringtone, but it sounds like America plugged it into one of those amplifiers of his!" He shouted as he held his ears down. Prussia winced as Germany's unnecessary shouting had also split his ears as well. He did however, pick up on a small buzzing noise coming from the corner of the room. He found Germany's smartphone buzzing on the floor among the shredded remains of his suit.

"Huh, your boss is calling." He picked up his brother's phone, reading the contact that flashed on the screen.

"Now? He can't see me like this!" He gestured to his shape.

"Well, he did say it was urgent in these messages." Prussia scrolled through his brother's phone.

"Fine. Just pick it up. I never let a call go unanswered." Germany huffed, expecting a turbulent whirlwind to come spewing out of his phone. Prussia cautiously clicked the answer button, and Germany's boss immediately began shouting into the microphone.

"Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be back twenty-seven minutes ago!"

Germany winced and plugged his ears again.

"Um, um, um," Prussia stuttered, unsure of what to say. "Ach, Germany's busy right now."

"With what?" He roared. "Burkina Faso and her boss are growing impatient!"

"Um, um," Prussia glanced around, trying to think of an excuse. He then remembered the doggish tendencies and got a brilliant idea. "Playing with his new foster dog," he answered.

"Is that so? May I see?"

Germany began to sweat under his fur. He knew his boss would go crazy if he discovered that the personification of his country had suddenly turned into a dog. Prussia muted the call, and the brothers quickly brainstormed any way out of the strange situation they were in.

"How about we just pretend you're the dog?" Prussia suggested. "You already look like one, and with some positioning, it would be perfect."

"Absolutely not! I'm still a human being!"

"Not really."

"You know what I mean."

"Come on, what other options are there?"

Germany glanced up at the ceiling, trying to think of another solution, but his mind was blank. After a few minutes, he reluctantly gave in.

"Fine, I'll do it," he sighed, swallowing his pride. Prussia found a clean tennis ball in their garage and instructed Germany to put it in his mouth. Germany awkwardly clamped his jaws around it while lowering himself on all fours. He couldn't describe how it felt walking around like he was an animal, but he could sum it up in one word: humiliating. He sat on his hind legs with a ball in his mouth as Prussia took his picture.

"Hm, the ball isn't cute enough. Stick out your tongue," he ordered.

"Great, now he's starting to order me around like a dog as well," Germany thought as he rolled his eyes and lolled his tongue out, plastering a big, goofy, doggish grin on his face. After he approved and watched his brother send the photo, his boss hung up and texted that it was fine, as long as he showed up the following day at three o'clock sharp.

"Now that that's out of the way, I need to work on some things." Germany sat himself on the couch, careful not to sit on his tail, and got out his laptop. He powered it on and began typing, but found that the keys were now too small. Nevertheless, he kept on working, pressing delete every few seconds.

"So, who do you think did this?" Prussia asked, petting his brother's furry shoulder.

"I don't know, but that's the least of my worries right now." He continued typing, not noticing that he was beginning to dent his keyboard.

"West, you might want to worry about your laptop." The Prussian shifted his gaze towards the delete button, which now had a gaping dent in the center. He shut the lid, wincing at the sound of the screen cracking, and set it gently aside.

"Why are you trying to work? Aren't you going to howl at the moon and run like the wind through the forest? Or you could scare some people and get on the news! You at least have to see how much you can bench!"

Germany sighed. "I know you think this is 'awesome,' but you didn't have to learn what it feels like when all your ribs break and your muscles threaten to burst through your skin."

Prussia looked down at his bandaged wound, having second thoughts on what it truly meant to be a werewolf. Sure, Germany might be super strong, but he could no longer go out with his buddies on the full moon or have fun at a club without having to worry about his ever-growing hair.

He quickly shook it off, focusing back on his brother. "So," he started, breaking the awkward silence, "what do you want to do?"

"I don't know," replied Germany, leaning back and sinking into the couch's cushions. He reached towards the remote, but when he grabbed it, it snapped in half with a crunch. Germany flinched before getting up and tossing the mangled remote in the garbage. Two pieces of expensive technology already gone. He made a mental note to be careful with his strength.

Prussia, on the other hand, had many fresh thoughts coursing through his mind. "Bro, we need to test your strength. I think we would both have a good time. If we do it outside, it'll be easier to clean up!"

"No." Germany shook his head. "You saw what the moon did to me." He looked at his paws, shuddering at the thought of not having thumbs. "What if it only transformed me further?"

"Well, there is only one way to find out." Prussia spied the tennis ball from earlier on the floor, still wet from its last use. He picked it up and opened the door to fling it outside. Germany's ears flicked to the left, hearing the boinging of the ball hitting their stone patio. Instantly, he zoomed outside, yapping and barking. He returned to drop a soaking ball on the floor.

"What the?" He stood back up on two legs.

"West, y-y-y—" He stuttered, unable to form sentences from how hard he was wheezing. His pale cheeks turned bright red.

"Just spit it out." Germany rubbed his temples, but doing so in his wolfish form had Prussia making an even more horrendous noise. It was like he had a dying seal mixed with a chorus of cats in his throat. Germany pawed at his ears while letting out a dog-like whine until Prussia stopped, gasping for air.

"You acted just like a dog!" He wheezed. Germany buried his muzzle in his paws from embarrassment.

"Can we not talk about this?"

"Fine," Prussia sighed. "Can we go outside now? You didn't turn into a full wolf, so that means you should be safe, right?"

"I guess it does," he huffed as he stepped outside into the frigid air.

When they gazed upwards at the light of the the full moon, Germany felt a strange, beastly urge become apparent. He forced his head down and tried to hold it in, but the urge built up in his gut until he lost control. His eyes gave off a bright burst of magic, and he thrust his muzzle to the sky, belting out a deafening howl.

Prussia jumped at first, but then closed his eyes, listening to his brother's howl pierce the silence. "Woah," he gasped in astonishment when the sound finally stopped ringing in his ears. "That was awesome!"

"Oh, thanks." Germany's eyes turned towards the ground as his ears drooped and his tail fell.

"Awe, come on. You don't have to be embarrassed about it." Prussia reached up and petted his shoulder. "You sounded just like an actual wolf."

"I know but—"

Prussia suddenly cut his brother off with a burst of enthusiastic energy. "If your voice is that powerful, I wonder what we could do with those muscles!"

Before Germany could object, Prussia had run into the house and returned, out of breath, with metal poles of varying thickness. He zoomed right back in, dragging even more out, until he had brought most of their raw materials from the garage.

"We are not testing my strength," Germany growled.

"Yes we are, and what better way than to see what you can crush!?" He exclaimed, easily forgetting about Germany's overly sensitive hearing.

"Fine," Germany barked, knowing that with how things had been going for the past few hours, Prussia would likely get his way anyway.

He took a pole in between his paw-like hands, then with barely any effort, crushed it like a soda can. He tossed it aside, and it clattered to the ground. "There, are we done now?" He pointed to the mangled piece of metal. Prussia rubbed his hands together and grinned.

"We just started, West." He picked up another pole and handed it to the wolf-man. Germany twisted it into a perfect pretzel and dropped it to the floor before the bent metal's heat could singe his fur. With haste, Prussia handed another pole to him. This continued for the next hour until Germany let a yawn slip out. The yard was littered with noodles, pretzels, and shredded chunks of metal.

"It's getting late." Germany yawned (an adorable, squeaky dog yawn) and picked up the pile of scrap metal with ease, wondering just how much money they had just thrown out the window. He tossed the shredded aluminum into the recycling bin and stepped inside. He carefully climbed up the stairs, using the railing to keep his balance. His alarm suddenly beeped, and he cautiously pressed the off button, making sure not to break his clock.

"Hey, West, you going to bed already?" Prussia shouted from downstairs.

"Yes," he replied, carefully flicking off the lights.

"But it's only midnight!" Prussia whined.

"You can stay up as long as you keep the noise down!" Germany shouted back at his brother before shutting the door. He climbed in bed and pulled his sheets over his head. As he slowly drifted off to sleep, he rolled over onto his back, only to feel a sharp crunch of pain. He hissed and rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Why does sleeping with a tail have to be so hard?" He wondered as he kicked the covers off to relieve him of the sweltering heat. As he tried to fall asleep again, he rolled back over onto his tail. He groaned and curled himself up on the bed, not caring that he was sleeping like an animal. The transformation earlier had taken both a physical and mental toll, and he quickly found himself sinking into dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **Dun dun dun. Prussia should be careful for what he wishes for!**


	11. Nightmares and Vampires

**Hey! I know I've been inactive for a while and I'm sorry. Writer's block hit me like a sack of bricks & school has been wearing away at my free time. I think updates will be monthly, but I can't guarantee. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

"And th-th-that's why w-w-we should m-make a h-hero to st-stop glo-global warming!" America exclaimed through chattering teeth while England scribbled on his notepad during a world meeting. Canada helped his shaking brother down from the stand after he finished, making sure he wouldn't fall over. Even England had noticed a few icicles forming on the tips of his hair. The recent winter storm had hit him like a brick, and now, all but a handful of states were in a deep freeze.

"Veh, it's my turn now." Italy floated up to the presentation board as Japan and Germany took his sides. Instantly, England felt off. The way Italy had spoken and the way Japan and Germany were staring seemed alien and emotionless, like someone had possessed them. Actually, when did the world meeting start? England retraced his memories but couldn't remember a single thing leading up to it. In one last test, he pinched himself.

There was no sting.

"This has to be a dream," he muttered. At that moment, the brick walls began to melt away with a loud rumble as thick, tall pine trees shot up from the ground. The giant wooden table dissolved, and his chair disintegrated into dust. He tumbled to the damp forest floor.

"What the?" He glanced around as a dense mist crept along the mossy ground. The howling of wolves caught his attention. England wasted no time. He bolted away as fast as he could, swatting branches full of sticky pine needles out of his face. Suddenly, something grabbed his leg and ripped him backwards. He slipped and landed facedown in the dirt.

When England looked back, he found that a copper-furred wolf had latched onto his pant leg and was now trying to pull him away. He fought and kicked at it, but paled after seeing a copper curl stick out below its ear.

"What have I done?" He whispered as he watched the wolf, now identified as Italy, drag him away. Germany and Japan quickly pounced on him to lock his limbs in place. England struggled against their weight, shifting his body left and right, but could not even hope to break free.

"That is quite enough. You wolves did an excellent job." A familiar voice echoed off the trees. England instantly knew who it was.

"Romania." England glared up at a cloud of smoke that drifted down and reshaped itself into the mischievous wizard. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to remind you," he smirked as he stood over the helpless country, "about our deal."

"Oh yes, yes, that deal." England rolled his eyes. "Now, can you please get them off me?" He gestured to Italy, who had sprawled his body on top of his legs.

"I'm afraid I can't," Romania chuckled.

"And why not?"

"I have a little warning I want to give you before I part."

Romania snapped his pale, bony fingers. Germany and Japan shifted their weight, putting their hind legs on his, making sure to hold their victim's lower body down against the ground. Italy got up to sniff around England's neck. His breath smelled strangely of meat sauce. With another snap, the copper-furred wolf lunged and sank its teeth into England's shoulder. He gasped and gritted his teeth, feeling a rush of stinging pain spread from the wound.

"Oi! But we had a bloody deal!" He screeched, kicking and flailing around like a child while eyeing the bite, which began immediately to close.

"Yes, I know that. You're not cursed. Not yet at least." He flicked his hand and the clouds began to part. "This is simply a little preview of what's to come if you don't fulfill our deal."

He placed a boot on England's chest and bent down. England stared up at him with fury in his eyes as he tugged and fought. The clouds soon disappeared, and Romania leaned out of the way, allowing the full moon's light to reach England. He squeezed his eyes shut just as he felt his right hand seize up. Then without warning, his hands began itching painfully. He could feel the fur sprouting and the skin tightening. His new claws ripped the moss from the earth.

Romania, noticing that the transformation had begun, got off the poor nation and waved his hand. A gust of wind rippled through the meadow, and the wolves simply blew away like ash, allowing England to finally move. Still, he could barely clamber to his knees with the tremendous, throbbing pains beginning to build up in his body.

Romania grinned, kneeling downwards and locking eyes with England. "Oh, relax. This is all a dream, remember?"

"A s-sick o-one," England could barely choke out as his teeth grew and sharpened into fangs. He collapsed to the ground, twitching uncontrollably. He seized his chest and felt how it was puffing up beneath his shirt. His claws tore through the fabric. Thick fur spilled out.

Romania grabbed his chin, forcing him to glare deep into his ruby eyes. "Remember, fulfill our deal, and this nightmare won't come true." He stood up and placed a hand on England's head.

The nightmarish being suddenly felt lightheaded as his entire body gave out and he fell to the ground. He panted heavily as he watched his hands transform completely into paws.

"But if you don't, I swear that I'll make sure your real transformation more painful than what you put the Axis through." Romania shot him a fanged grin. "Oh, and good luck at being a unicorn. You kind of remind me of those technicolored ponies that America loves to fanboy over. Maybe I'll turn him into one sometime."

"I-if y-you l-lay a sin-single f-finger on him, y-you're d-dead," England stuttered, his eyes stinging from tears. Something inside him gave a sickening crack. He dared not look at his body.

"Geez, I was just joking." He gave an innocent sneer and bopped England on his darkening nose. "Now sleep," he commanded, and England's head fell.

"At least I didn't have to smack him in the head like I did to that workaholic," Romania muttered to himself before the world crumbled under his feet and he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

—-

* * *

England shot out of bed, fur soaked with sweat. He put a hoof to the face and rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the light.

"Still a unicorn," he sighed, staring down at his own mint-green hooves. "At least I'm not a werewolf."

He yawned and stretched, his body sore from sleeping funny. His ears swiveled, picking up the sound of something crashing to the ground. Worried, he hopped out of bed and galloped down the stairs.

"I'm ok!" Sealand, still an adorable colt, picked up the bowl he had dropped. Scotland was right beside him, having managed to finally figure out how to use his horn. He was now busy cracking eggs into a bowl to be made for breakfast. Sealand grabbed the oven mitt in his mouth and rushed over to the oven as the timer went off, pulling out a tray of sausages and gently setting it on the stove. He looked up to find England at the top of the stairs.

"Morning," Scotland grunted.

"Do you chaps mind me making scones?" England asked as he trotted up to the pantry and began gathering the ingredients. Scotland rushed over and stopped him from getting out any more.

"I think we'll be fine without them." He put the ingredients back in their rightful places.

"Is it me, or do you smell smoke?" England sniffed the air. Scotland turned around and ran back to the stove and cursed. He removed the pan off the burner and stirred frantically, but it was too late. The eggs were burned and resembled charcoal. He took the pan to the table and set it down, then hopped up onto the chair while England helped Sealand up. The trio tucked into their breakfast, but not long after they started, Scotland's face turned a sickly shade of green, and he spat out a piece of sausage into a napkin.

"I usually love these sausages. Why do they taste like crap?" He took another bite and spat it out. England took one and tried it for himself. It smelt fine and nothing seemed wrong about it, so he bit into it and chewed. The salty grease dribbled down the back of his throat, and he spat it out. He couldn't put a word on the taste, but he knew he wouldn't be able to swallow it without coughing it back up. He sighed as he realized what the potion had altered.

"I think it's because our anatomy has changed. We're herbivores," he answered, taking the sausages off the table and dumping them in the trash.

"So, you're telling me I can't have beef!" Scotland angrily snorted. "I can't be a vegetarian for two weeks!"

"You're going to have to be. There isn't a reversal potion, remember?"

"I know," he groaned and dished himself some of the charred eggs. He grumpily bit into them. "At least the eggs are fine."

As England dished himself up and munched on his breakfast, he reviewed his nightmare. Sure, Romania did tend to be a bit pushy when it came to collecting payment, but invading his dreams did seem a little out of character for him. They soon finished their breakfast and cleared the table, but in the middle of setting plates in the dishwasher, England froze, eyes spying the time on the clock.

"Aye, you ok?" Scotland asked, waving a hoof in front of England's face.

His bushy eyebrows shot up, and he raced towards the door in a frenzy. "I'm going to be late for Parliament!"

Scotland used his horn and caught him by the tail, dragging him back into the kitchen. "You can't go out like that." He pointed to England's form.

"But I have to! I promised the Queen I'd be there!"

"Look, England," he started. "I don't think she or the minister would appreciate if you showed up to Buckingham Palace as a horse."

"Even if you're making a pun," Sealand added.

England cast his gaze towards the floor as his ears drooped. "You're right, what was I thinking?" He trotted back to the kitchen, but then abruptly turned around and raced towards his basement, realizing a temporary solution to his problem.

"What got into ya suddenly!"

"I don't need to change myself back!" England replied while disarming the spell and skimming through his titles. "I only need to look like myself!" He took a book out and read the spell as his horn lit up, and he focused on an image. Wind whipped up his mane and mist swirled about as his appearance flickered and changed. Once it settled, England stood up, now clothed and human, and walked back upstairs.

"Wait, how'd you change yourself back? You said that it's impossible!" Sealand shouted.

"It's an illusion." England drifted his hand through the table, and it phased through like a ghost. "I can fetch the spell for you if you'd like."

"Nah, we'll be fine, but are you sure you can keep it up all day?" Scotland asked. "You know how hard illusions are to maintain. Not mentioning that you'd have to cast a sensory illusion on top of the one you have on already."

"I'll be fine," England reassured his brother and began walking towards the door. He held the phantom hand up and used his magic to open it. "I'll be back in a few hours! Don't go through my magic!"

Of course, we all know what ideas were coursing through Scotland's head.

* * *

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, Romania sat in his study, thumbing through layers upon layers of ancient texts next to candlelight. The blinds drawn over stained-glass windows prevented any sunlight from penetrating the room, as a single sliver of it could prove painful for the many undead servants roaming the halls at the time. Suddenly, there came a harsh knock at the door which startled Romania and broke his concentration.

"Come in!" He called. The wooden door swung open, and a servant walked in carrying a tray with some fruit and a cup of wine.

"I've got your lunch. Where should I set it?"

"Just next to my work desk should be fine." Romania pointed to the area to his left. The servant set the tray down and tidied up any loose papers he found lying around.

"Your boss is wondering how the ceremony preparations are coming."

Romania flipped a page and yawned. "They're coming along quite well," he replied, browsing a text on the uses of herbs. "But I don't know why I have to reread everything in my entire collection. Werewolves are practically immune to sleeping and paralyzing potions, and the only thing that can actually harm a werewolf is silver." He leaned back and relaxed a bit in his seat, stretching his back which had grown stiff from countless hours of being hunched over at his desk.

"You should take a break," the servant suggested. "You might be able to focus better if you have something in your stomach."

"I can't. I still have all these books I need to read by the next full moon," Romania groaned, gesturing to the many bookshelves on the walls, each stacked full with tomes.

"I'll leave you to it then." The servant lowered his head and exited, shutting the door behind him. Romania slipped a bookmark in between the yellowing pages and shut the book, casting his gaze over at the fruit. His stomach growled, so he reached over and plucked a grape off its vine to snack on. He spun around and grabbed another book off his shelf, flipping it to a random page as he dragged the bowl of fruit closer.

"Well, he might be right." Romania ate his lunch and pushed the bowl and cup aside, tucking into the next book with a refreshed enthusiasm.


	12. And the very next day

**Hey! I'm not dead! Just extremely busy with schoolwork and writer's block. Oh well, I hope you enjoy the next chapter and thank you once again to Syntax-n for beta-reading (I honestly don't know how I'd be at this point without her.) As always, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

When Romano woke up the next day, he expected Italy to be back to his normal shape and still in bed. Instead, he found his bed vacant and the door ajar. He stretched his back and yawned, glancing at the clock, which read 7:00.

"Fuck, that's too early," he groaned. He attempted to fall asleep again, but he just couldn't. Instead, he got up and lazily slipped on a shirt, then dragged himself downstairs. He found that Italy, still in wolf form, had toiled and struggled to make a pot of coffee. Heavy curtains blocked any sunlight from reaching inside. All the light in the house was provided by the lamps, which were kept dim.

"How the hell did you get up so early?" Romano snatched a mug from the cupboard and filled it up. "And why are you still a wolf?"

"Your alarm was really loud, and it woke me up before the sun was up," he whined while he poured another coffee for himself.

"That still doesn't explain why you're still a damn animal!" he shouted. Italy winced and held his paws over his ears. Romano apologized, then sighed. "At least let a little light in." He reached over and pulled the blinds open, allowing sunlight to seep through the window. A ray of light struck Italy, and he collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably.

"Changing back," he choked out.

Romano rushed to his side and did his best to comfort his brother, squeezing his arm and waiting for the changes to transpire. He knew, however, that there was little he could do to ease the oncoming pain.

Italy's muscles grew stiff and cold, then like balloons began to quiver and shrink as they withered back to their original size. A tight sensation spread over his muzzle, and it pushed itself back into his face with a series of long, audible creaks.

Romano stroked Italy's back, which seemed to help a bit, as he relaxed slightly. He gave his tail a wag. Fluffy patches of fur fell away, and his tail shrank to merge back into his spine. He let out a small whimper as he felt a terrible pressure begin to build up in his legs. Abruptly, they bent and snapped back into their old positions. His feet followed suit, crunching and warping along with the rest of his body. He cried out, feeling the worst of the changes taking place within. His bones bulged before shrinking down all at once, and his stomach protested as it was squeezed back to its original shape.

His claws thinned and lost their color, fading from a deep charcoal black to an ashy gray, then back to pale pink. He shivered, feeling a rush of coldness run down his back. With an added shake, the rest of his fur fell out, littering the floor (and Romano's white shirt) in coppery red strands. With one last pulse, his ears moved downwards and back to the sides of his head. He fell forward, unable to support himself any longer on his shaking limbs. The changes had ceased, leaving him weak and achy.

"A-are you ok?" Romano asked, brushing the fur off his brother's back.

"S-sì, my ears just feel strange." Italy reached upwards and felt them. Something brushed the sides of his hands. Something long and spindly. He could tell they belonged to him, as he could feel the warmth of his hands whenever he stroked them.

"Let me see." Romano brushed hair and fur away, revealing two long, stretched ears with rounded edges. He cautiously reached out with a morbid curiosity and touched them. They twitched, causing him to jump.

"W-wh-what the fuck?"

"What is it, fratello?" Italy asked. His breathing quickened. "Is something wrong?"

He attempted to hoist himself up, but his hand slipped on the fur and he came tumbling down.

"It's nothing," Romano replied. He offered a hand to his brother, to which he refused.

Italy attempted to get up once again with the help of the counter and managed to stand up on jittery legs. He groaned, feeling his strained muscles ache. He leaned heavily over the counter and noticed his unusual reflection staring back at him in the window.

"Veh. Fratello?" Italy motioned to his brother to come over.

"Sì, what is it, Veneziano?"

"M-my ears. They're different," he stuttered as he reached up and tugged on one. "I look like an elf." He touched the other gently, and it flicked involuntarily. A gust of wind blew, and he shivered, goosebumps creeping up his bare skin. "And I'm cold."

"Yeah, no wonder. You're naked, dammit. Whatever. Come on, let's get you dressed." He looped Italy's arm around his shoulder and helped him upstairs to their bathroom.

While his brother took a shower. Romano set off back downstairs to work on cleaning up the mess of fur. He dusted himself off, (which proved to be difficult since the fur clung on to everything.) He found himself stopping every few minutes to fish loose strands of fur out of his mouth. By the time Italy had finished and returned downstairs, clad in soft sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, Romano was still busy vacuuming up strands. Italy stepped past his brother and over to the large gashes in the walls. He ran a quaking hand over them in disbelief.

"Did I really cause this much damage?"

"Yes, you did. Now we're going to have to fix the entire fucking wall." Romano snorted. Italy's ears lowered, followed by his head. Romano paused and turned off the vacuum as Italy's voice quivered.

"D-did I-I hurt anyone?"

"No, you didn't." Romano reassured him. "You didn't even leave the house."

Italy took a deep breath and calmed himself down, then his familiar smile came back to his face, followed by a look of concern.

"What about Germany? Do you think he's ok?"

"Sì." Romano rolled his eyes. "He's probably fine."

* * *

That was hardly the case. Germany had woken up with a nasty sore in his back from being curled up and piles of his blond fur scattered all over his bed. He sat up and stretched, wincing when his spine gave a crack and his muscles sent aches shooting up his arms. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, finding it to have receded back to its normal length. He examined his hands as well, finding them perfectly human.

Satisfied, he hopped out of bed and walked over to his dresser to grab some clothes, then to the bathroom to freshen himself up and to rid himself of the horrid dog smell that seemed to cling to his body. He scrubbed himself down, washing away any excess strands of fur that hadn't fallen off. As he reached up to scrub behind his ears however, something felt off. He reached back and seized his ear, moving his hand upwards and brushing the tips.

'What the hell?" he said, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. His ears shot out and up, allowing him to get a good look at his reflection. Startled, he stumbled back and hit the wall, slipping on soap and crashing to the ground.

"Hey, West, are you ok?" Prussia rushed up the stairs and knocked on the door.

"Err, ja, I'm fine." Germany stumbled to his feet and switched off the water. He dried himself off and shoved some clothes on. He opened the door to be faced with Prussia, who stole a glance at his ears and bit his tongue. His face turned beet red as he tried to hold back his laugh.

"West, forget being a werewolf. You're an elf!" He cackled. Germany groaned.

"You know, you're likely going to have the same thing after you first transform," he remarked. Prussia ceased his chuckling. "Speaking of which, we should change your bandages."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He sat himself down on the toilet seat lid and let his brother work on his leg. Germany unwound the bloody bandages, discarding them in the bin beside him. As he turned around to pick up some fresh bandages, Prussia tugged on his shirt.

"I don't think we're going to need more bandages. My wounds are gone!" He grabbed a towel and wet it, then washed off the blood that still clung to his leg.

There was a pale ring of raised flesh where Germany had bitten him the previous night. Germany, confused, ran his hand over the scar. Sure, he and Prussia were nations and could heal any wound faster than normal humans, but not this fast. At the very least, it should have taken a week to fully heal, maybe more with Prussia's ex-nation status. "This is awesome! I'm a werewolf!"

"No! This isn't awesome." Germany snapped. "How are we going to prevent you from attacking people when the next full moon comes up? How are you going to deal with the symptoms?"

"I'm too awesome to have those lame side-effects." Prussia scoffed, crossing his arms as his stomach growled. "Could we go out for breakfast? I'm starving."

"No, we're not leaving the house. Not when I look like this." Germany gestured to his ears. They perked up above his head. He pushed them down with his hands, but they shot back up. Frustrated, he concentrated on flattening them against the sides of his head. They twitched slightly, then obeyed. He continued his reasoning. "We already have sausages anyway, and it would be a waste if we didn't eat them before they went bad."

"Fine, I guess you're right." Prussia rolled his eyes. "Do you mind if I start eating without you?"

"No, I'll be down there in a few minutes." Germany replied. Prussia rushed out of the room and left Germany to finish his morning routine.

After he had slicked his hair back with some hair gel (which took an extra fifteen minutes due to his ears sticking up at the most inconvenient times and ruffling his hair,) he walked down the stairs and found a pot of sausages on their table. Prussia had already began digging in, already in the middle of eating a sausage.

"Oh, hey, West!" He smiled with a mouth full of meat. Germany wrinkled his nose and sat down.

"Could you please not speak with your mouth open?" Germany asked in disgust. Prussia rolled his eyes and swallowed.

"There, better?"

"Ja," Germany replied. He heard his phone buzz from upstairs and got up to fetch it. Italy's calling number was on the screen, so naturally, he picked up.

"Germany!" Italy exclaimed. "Thank goodness you picked up! I changed back, and I have these really strange elf ears, and I-"

"Italy, you're talking too fast. Can you slow down and repeat what you just said?"

"Veh, I changed back a few hours ago, and now my ears look like an elf's. Here, I'll show you." He hung up and called Germany again, this time on a video call. "Oh, so it isn't just me," he said, looking at Germany's ears, which stuck out like a sore thumb against his slicked back hair.

"It seems so. Have you heard from Japan?"

"No, but Korea recorded what happened. I'll send you the link." Germany's phone buzzed, and he clicked the link. A video popped up that depicted a raven-hared werewolf swiping at the camera before it tripped and hit the floor, shaking the camera. Germany cringed.

"I'll check up on him." Germany muted the call with Italy and texted Japan before calling him. He picked up.

"Moshi moshi, Germany-san, Italy-kun. How are you doing?"

"Not too well." Germany brushed his hair back, exposing his ears.

"Ah, so it isn't just me," he exhaled in relief.

"Veh, I have them as well." Italy added.

"Let's not get off topic." Germany steered the conversation away from the side chat. "We should focus on more important matters, as we need to figure out who, or what triggered us to turn into those beasts."

"You mean werewolves?" Italy interjected.

"Ja," Germany said. "I have my suspicions with England. His actions at the last meeting make me want to think he has something to do with this."

"Actually, I can confirm them," Italy replied.

"How so?" Japan asked.

"I-I…" Italy glanced away. Should he really be doing this? He promised England that he wouldn't say a word after all. He swallowed his fear and continued his sentence. "England called me a few nights ago and requested some hair for a project he was working on. I never thought that he'd use it to curse us."

"Well, if England was the person who put the curse on us, he might be able to remove it," Japan suggested.

"Sì! And hopefully quick. I don't want to transform again." Italy shivered at the thought of having to experience another round of strange symptoms and painful transformations.

"Japan might be on to something," Germany said, trying to think of a plan. "How long do you think it would take you two to get to my place?"

"Veh, I can be there in a week. I don't think I have anything coming up."

"I need to get home before I can travel any more. I already have my flight booked for tomorrow, but I think I can be there in a week."

"I think that will work. For now, I'm going to call another G8 meeting and see if we can confront England and get us cured."

"Sounds great, Germany." Italy chimed.

"It seems like a good plan Germany-san," Japan added.

"So, I'll see you in a week?" Germany asked

"You can count on it."

"Eh, what Italy-kun said."

"Great. See you in a week." Germany disconnected from the call and then sent out the invites to the next meeting while he scheduled a room for the next week at his embassy.


	13. Then came the meeting

**Yay! New chapter! I think this is the fastest I've uploaded in a while. On that note, this might be the last chapter I upload before summer break. Don't fret though! I plan on completing this story over the summer so I can craft more next year! As always, please enjoy!**

* * *

Germany could describe the next week only as a hectic tornado of chaos, for lack of better words. Hiding his ears proved to be a chore. (At the meeting with his boss, he had to make sure to keep a hat on at all times, and this only aroused suspicion.)

Prussia had begun to develop some strange side effects, but not in the way Germany thought he would. Prussia's strength had increased dramatically over the course of the week. It was only slight at first. He had accidentally crushed his fork while eating, much to Germany's annoyance. Now, Germany had to deal with his brother's antics at the meeting hall just so there was no risk of him breaking everything in the house.

He dragged Prussia into the hall, then sat him outside the sturdy, orientally-carved oak doors. Italy and Japan arrived next, both concealing their appearances. Italy had resorted to using a winter hat with fuzzy ear covers, while Japan had slipped a black hoodie over his head, perfectly covering his ears.

"Japan, Italy, nice to see that you could make it," Germany greeted.

"Sì!" Italy pulled off his hat, which exposed his ears. Japan did the same.

"Germany-san, how are we going to confront England?" Japan asked, nervously tugging on his hood.

"I don't know, maybe we'll—" He was cut off as he picked up footsteps racing down the hall towards them. The trio shoved their coverings back on as the doors to the meeting room swung open and America raced in.

"Hey, dudes! What's up!" He sat himself down at his designated seat.

"Err…nothing," replied Germany. "We were just preparing our notes."

"Huh, normally Iggy shows up before me. Wonder where he is."

America propped his feet up on the table and was about to doze off, only for a strange eeriness to penetrate the mood. Italy shivered, and Germany tensed up.

"Veh, I'm scared."

"Ja, I can feel it as well."

Canada walked in the room and sat down silently, not knowing what the other members were worried about.

"No one's ever going to notice me," he sighed, clutching his polar bear tight. America finally noticed him, which lifted the eerie atmosphere from the room.

"Oh, Canada, I didn't even see you walk in, bro!" America exclaimed while giving his brother an excessive hug.

"M-maple."

Then Russia burst into the room, and America bounced back to his seat. The tallest nation had a childlike grin on his face, and he clasped his metal pipe menacingly in his hands. Without saying anything, he sat down and glared at America, sending chills down the spine of the latter. France soon followed in in his usual garb, but couldn't help but send a snicker towards the trio's ridiculous outfits.

"Germany, first you wear stupid pants during wartime, and now a beanie hat and suit together? I thought you would have learned by now," he casually remarked.

"I am very much aware of that, and we'll explain our unusual looks once England arrives."

"That's funny, shouldn't he be here by now?" France glanced around just as England burst through the door and stumbled inside.

"Sorry that I'm late," he apologized and sat down.

"You're fine," replied Germany.

"Well, since everyone is here, I believe we can start the meeting, Germany-san."

"Sì!" Added Italy. The trio stood up and gave their opening speeches before Germany addressed the nations with their actual intentions.

"We have called this meeting today to discuss something that has been afflicting us for the past two weeks. We believe the culprit is in this very room." Germany announced.

England tensed in his seat, still trying to keep calm and focus on his spells. The potion Sealand had spiked his tea with had begun to wear off over the past few days, but he still had that godforsaken horn perched right on his forehead, pony ears, and a coating of mint green fuzz all over his body. At least he could now walk upright and write, or else that meeting would have been torture like the one with Parliament. (He had almost gotten caught on several occasions. The last straw had come when he got sick due to the beef Wellington that was prepared and the meeting was called off in fear the meat had been tainted.)

"Hey, Iggy, you ok? You look a little green," America said, pointing to England's face, which indeed had turned a faint shade of mint green.

"Ah yes, it's nothing." England waved him off and turned his focus back onto his illusion. The changes faded away, and he was soon back to normal. He turned his attention back to Germany, who was still busy talking. Then, without warning, he took off his hat, exposing his ears. Italy and Japan followed suit. France paled.

"Mon ami, you've been cursed!" He gasped while raising a trembling arm.

"I know. There was a full moon a week ago."

"Wait, hold up." America put a hand up.

"What is it?" Germany asked.

"Are you guys werewolves? That's badass!"

Prussia burst into the meeting room, hopping onto the table with animalistic agility. He then proudly showed off the leg with his scar.

"Ja! We are! West bit me the other day! Now I can do this!" he hopped off the table and grabbed a metal pole from a nearby flag stand to break it in two. Germany intervened and dragged him outside by the ear before he could cause any more of a disturbance.

"What the hell were you doing!? I gave you strict orders to stay outside!" Germany scolded him.

"Ja, but I'm older, and I get to make the rules." Prussia whined.

"Only by three and a half centuries."

"Not the point! Also, those doors are not soundproof like your boss says. I could hear everything going on inside loud and clear."

Germany raised a brow. He walked over and knocked on the door to prove that it was in fact soundproof and that no one could hear him on the other side. He pulled out his phone and checked the moon phase, finding that it was on its last quarter. He hadn't been experiencing anything weird, and his wolfish impulses had subsided over the past few days. _Why was Prussia being affected and not him?_

Prussia snapped him out of his daze and got his attention. "West, you might want to settle the argument that's arising." He gestured towards the door.

Germany stepped back inside after having his brother promise not to cause any more interruptions. Inside the meeting room was another story. Canada was aimlessly drifting around the room while Russia cornered a determined America and waved his pipe about. Japan and Italy had hunkered behind the presentation screen while France was trying to keep order to no avail. England had strangely disappeared under the chaos and was nowhere to be found. Spotting Germany from the crowd, France stepped down and ushered him aside from the chaos. He placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.

"I believe I know who cursed you." France stated.

"Italy, Japan, and I are fairly certain that it's England, but who do you think it is?"

"That is true. It is Angleterre."

"And how do you know?"

"I was once afflicted with the same curse. Do you remember the meeting last April?"

"Yes, I do."

* * *

 _The meeting that past spring was as neat and orderly as it could get. Everyone had shown up on time — everyone but France. Not wanting to wait, Germany started the meeting and pulled up a pie chart on the presentation screen. He was busy pointing and explaining when the doors swung open and France rushed in, holding an oversized beret on his head while clutching several notebooks in his arms and a pencil case in his mouth._

 _"Am I late?" France asked._

 _"You're more than late! Take a seat at once!" Germany growled._

 _France rushed over to his assigned seat next to America and scribbled down notes on his notepad while trying to keep up with Germany's speech._

 _Noticing that France wasn't acting right, America leaned over and poked him on the shoulder. "Hey, dude, you ok?"_

 _"Oui, why do you ask?"_

 _"Normally you'd be over there pestering eyebrows." He pointed to England, who glared at France with a slight smirk. France shook his head and tried to focus on catching up his notes._

 _"I don't want to annoy Angleterre right now," he sighed. Then he felt a familiar electric prickle in his chin — one that had been pestering him long before the meeting. He rubbed it and felt the stubble on his chin lengthen from barely existent to about a few centimeters. He paled. If the other countries found out about his condition, they'd freak out! He had to get out of there without causing a scene. He stood up and wrapped a scarf around his chin. The motion caught Germany's attention._

 _"Yes France? Do you have something to add?"_

 _"Eh, no. I need to excuse myself for a minute." He rushed towards the door, but America had reached for his beret and grabbed it, yanking it off his head. France froze and felt for his hat as his ears began to rise above his head, sticking out in front of the many nations that were attending. The room grew quiet enough that one could hear a pin drop._

 _"Veh, France, what are those?" Italy asked, coming closer._

 _"They are nothing." France pushed his ears down with an arm and grabbed his belongings before Italy could come any closer. He rushed out of the meeting room, leaving the countries in silence._

 _"Woah, Iggy, did you see that?" America reached over to tap England on the shoulder, but found that he was no longer in his seat. "Huh, where'd he go?" He glanced around looking for England while Germany shook his head, debating if the scene that took place was in a dream or reality._

* * *

As Germany took in the info, one question still lingered in the back of his mind.

"France," he started.

"Oui?" he replied.

"How were you cured?"

"Ah, Angleterre gave me the antidote after I convinced him to. It took me up until last summer to convince him to cure me, and most of it was out of guilt."

"I see," Germany said, glancing around the room for the British nation, "but I think he left. Thank you for the information, France."

"Not at all. Now, I must be going, as I have other things that need my attention. Au revoir, Germany." France waved and left, and Germany soon followed. As he exited the meeting room, however, he could've sworn he saw England turn the corner. He paid no attention to it and left the building with Prussia in tow.

* * *

As England raced through the hallways of the meeting hall, he felt his illusion slip away. His ears tingled, and green fuzz crept up the back of his neck. He stopped and turned the corner into the men's bathroom and slammed the door shut.

"That was too close," he said between gasps of air, trying to regain his breath. He watched in fascination as the fuzz climbed up his arms and then stopped. He sighed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. For a moment he had his peace, until he felt a sudden jab to his sides and jumped.

"You couldn't see me behind you despite looking into a mirror? How ignorant do you have to be? Also, nice look with the fuzz. It really matches your eyes!" Romania cackled. England glared at him with a frown, knitting his fuzzy eyebrows together with a cross look.

"What is it now? First you invade my dreams, and now come to me at the worst of times?" England elicited a horse-like snort, which caused Romania to snicker.

"No, no, I don't mean any insult to you. I have just come to let you know that I left a little "gift" in your basement. Oh, and by the way, might've wanted to keep a lock on that door. I found it in quite a shamble."

"Scotland," England growled as his ears flattened. Romania guffawed at his absurd appearance. "Never mind him. What the bloody hell did you leave me?"

"Oh, nothing much. You'll see when you get there," he reassured him and disappeared in a puff of smoke. England sighed and got out his wand, teleporting away right as Russia walked out of a nearby stall.

"I wonder who was in here?" He glanced around, quickly lost interest, and left.

* * *

What England discovered in his basement was absolutely horrifying. Potions were scattered on the ground in a multicolored mess while unknown powders and paints had been splashed all over the wall. He rushed over to his bookcase, finding a large black scorch mark on the side and his books messily organized as if someone stuffed them back in a hurry. Pages of precious information and spells were strewn around his desk, already littered with shimmery, dried-up potions and hoofprints.

As England made his way to the back though, he found three shrouded objects with a note attached to the middle one. These were seemingly unscathed by the mess. He tore off the note and quickly skimmed over it.

 _It seems like you are having a little trouble completing your part of our bargain, so I've supplied you with a tool to help out. You'll know what it's for._

 _-Romania_

Curious now as to what might lay under the shrouds, he tugged them off and cast them aside. He found three wooden chairs facing him, each fitted with leather restraints for the arms, legs and chest. Metal bars ran across the upper area of the chairs, and it didn't take a second glance for England to identify them as silver. He circled the chairs to find a blood bag draped over the back of each. He picked one up and shivered, then quickly set it back, realizing what the chairs were for. He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind and flicked his wand, sending the covers flying back over the chairs.

The potions wiped themselves up. Streams of golden magic sailed through the air over to the bookshelf and all over the floor, picking up pages and placing them neatly back into the bookshelf. With the rest of the mess cleaning itself, England left his basement and redid his spells over his doorway. Then, he promptly stomped up the stairs, eager for his brother's explanation.


	14. Some awesome side effects

A few days after the meeting, an alarmed set of peeps stirred Germany from his rest. He groggily sat up and shook his head, still not fully aware of what was going on. That was until he spotted a yellow ball of fluff and feathers hovering right in front of his face. He yawned, still shaking off several layers of sleep, then jumped back at the unexpected visitor.

"Gilbird, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Prussia?"

Gilbird gave another peep and flew closer, grabbing a strand of Germany's hair in his beak. The little bird tugged it aside, then let go and raced towards the door before doubling back to give Germany another tug. "You want me to follow you?"

Gilbird gave a chirp and flew out the bedroom, prompting Germany to follow. The bird landed on the doorknob to Prussia's room, then looked back to make sure Germany had followed him. Once he had reached the door, Gilbird flew into Prussia's room. Germany crept inside and glanced around. More clothes than usual were strewn around the floor and on his bed, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. So why had Gilbird wanted him to come?

Gilbird perched on his roost and peeped again, bobbing his head towards the closet, which was shut tight. Germany focused his attention on it and could hear Prussia's voice from inside.

"Ach, why is everything I own so unawesomely small now? My favorite shirt probably shrunk in the washer, that's all."

The doorknob clicked, and Prussia stepped out, dressed in only an undershirt, which looked like it could rip at any moment, and a pair of boxers. Germany took a step back and looked up at his brother, who now towered over him. Prussia didn't seem to notice, though, as he was more focused on getting a shirt over his head.

"Bruder! What the hell happened to you?" Germany shouted, catching his brother's attention. Prussia stopped struggling with his shirt and looked down.

"What happened to me?" He asked sarcastically, "Everything shrunk! And your hair is growing again."

Germany's hand flew to the back of his head. Indeed, his hair had trailed down the back of his neck. He brushed it aside and focused back on the fact that his brother was now several inches taller than him.

"That's not the point. You grew an amount that's physically impossible to achieve in one night!"

"Says the person who turned into a dog the other week and grew seventy feet of hair within an hour," Prussia shot back.

"That was different," Germany huffed. "Come on, let's see if any of my things will fit you." He dragged his brother to his room and dug through his clothes, tossing him the biggest set of clothes he could find. Prussia slipped the shirt on over his head and shoved his arms through his sleeves. A few stitches popped instantly.

"Sorry." He took off the shirt and handed it back to Germany, who looked at it and sighed.

"Looks like we'll have to get you an entirely new set of clothes."

"And a haircut for you," Prussia snickered. Germany shook his head in disapproval as his hair grew a few more inches.

"Maybe later, but we can't go out unless you have something to wear."

"Can't we call the Mozart fanboy to come over and fix them?"

"You know it takes a few hours for him to drive from his place to ours, not including the fact that he hates driving. It would be more polite if we were to call him and ask for advice."

Prussia let out a groan. "Fine, but don't blame me if I start complaining. His whining voice drives me crazy. Honestly, he sounds more like a clucking chicken than a man."

Germany rolled his eyes at the remark and gestured to Prussia to get out his phone, (since his was still cracked from when he first transformed). Although Austria's whiny and pompous attitude could get annoying at times, he had learned to put up with it. He dialed the number, but a female voice picked up.

"Hello? Prussia? You better not be calling to insult Roderich's music again. I have a guest who's not suited to hear your colorful language at this moment."

"Nein, Hungary, it's Germany. We're stuck in a sort of clothing situation. Prussia..." he paused, not knowing how to articulate the current situation to her.

"Prussia what? Finally lost his perverted habits? Grew a foot?"

"Actually yes, he did. I believe he may have had an overnight growth spurt. None of his clothes fit him anymore."

Prussia leaned in next to his brother and shouted into the phone.

"Ja! That is right! Mein kleiner Bruder is now shorter than the awesome me!"

Germany shoved Prussia aside and returned to the phone call.

"Sorry about him. To make things short, do you think you could get Austria on the phone and instruct me how to repair Prussia's clothes?" He asked while keeping an elbow to Prussia's chest (while struggling at the same time.)

Hungary muttered something unintelligible under her breath, then continued. "Just give me a second."

The phone clicked, and her call ended. It was soon replaced by an incoming video call from Austria. The minute Germany picked up, however, he was met with an extremely grumpy Austrian on the other end.

"Could you have picked another time? I was in the middle of practicing one of my sonatas," he grumbled, sending a glare towards the screen.

"Well, as you can probably see, we're having a little bit of an emergency and I need some of your help."

"You certainly look like you do! I thought France was over-exaggerating when he said you looked like an elf, but I can clearly see he's telling the truth! He didn't mention you grew your hair out, though!"

"Err…it's not my hair and I don't need help with my ears," Germany grumbled as they twitched. He took a minute to slick the couple strands of hair that dislodged and continued. "Prussia had a growth spurt and-"

"Fix his clothes?" Austria repeated.

"Ja, do you think you could instruct me?"

Austria glanced at his watch, then back at his piano and sighed.

"I don't think I have enough time; Liechtenstein is coming over for a piano lesson, and after that, I have to go to Vienna to pick up groceries."

"Ah, okay. Sorry for bothering you. I'm sure I'll figure out something for the meantime."

"Please do so, and don't call me again without prior written correspondence. You messed up my focus."

Not wanting to hear any of Austria's whining, he hung up and turned to Prussia, who now had turned his attention towards the fridge and was busy digging through it. Germany waited a second for him to finish grabbing food before he spoke up, but that second turned into a minute, which turned into several minutes. Tired of waiting, he called out.

"Prussia?" He approached him and tapped him on the shoulder with no reply. He did so again but placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. Prussia finally broke out of whatever trance had caught him and turned around with a steak in hand.

"What?" He asked, casually munching on it.

"Are you going to cook that? I thought we were going to use that steak to make dinner tonight."

Prussia, realizing his mistake, turned around and made a beeline for the trash can. He spat out the remainder of the meat and rinsed his mouth out with a glass of water.

"Ach, that was disgusting! I knew I was going to undergo some awesome changes, but I didn't think I'd be getting any of those gross cravings you had." He coughed again into the garbage bin.

"I know it's gross, but I believe it's a one-time thing, as I haven't had any of those cravings come back yet." He patted his back as Prussia finished spitting out the rest of the meat. "You'll be fine. It won't kill you."

Prussia got up and scoffed, "Well duh, the awesome me won't die of food poisoning. This undershirt is starting to feel tight though." He fumbled with the strap on his shoulder.

"Do you know if you have any other clothes that might fit you?"

"Actually, I do have a set that Russia gave me as a gift back in the 1760s that were made way too big. I don't remember where I set them, though." Prussia glanced at the ceiling and back at his brother. "You may want to think about cutting your hair again. It's down to your back."

Germany reached back and felt for his hair, finding it brushing up against his shoulders and upper back. "I'll deal with it in a minute. Do you remember where you last set them?"

Prussia squinted towards the ceiling, trying to think, when he finally remembered.

"I remember shoving them in a box a couple of years back and putting the box in the basement. I just don't remember where."

"Then let's go look for them. It shouldn't take too long."

* * *

Despite the spotlessness of the rest of the house, it had been years since their basement had been cleaned out properly, so all the boxes stored down there were covered in a thick blanket of dust. Germany opened the door and stepped in, waving a few stray particles away from his face. Prussia came in after him, but his new height caused him to smack his head against the top of the door frame. "Ow," he groaned, rubbing his forehead.

He filed in behind his brother before Germany could notice and scanned the boxes to his right. He dusted off some of the dust from one, reading the faint "1987" messily scribbled on the side. As he walked further in, (having to crouch as the ceiling slanted downwards,) the dates went further back, and the material changed. Plastic bins became cardboard, which soon turned into wooden crates towards the back. He wrapped his arms around one, assuming it would be heavy, and picked it up. The crate flew out of Prussia's hands, grazing the brick ceiling and hitting Germany square in the back when it fell. It splintered, allowing its contents to spill all over the floor. Germany turned around and grumbled.

"I thought you had a handle on your strength."

"I did, but I remember the last time we handled these boxes, they were heavy."

"And?"

"I was expecting them to weigh the same amount."

Germany sighed and shook his head.

"Let's just get a new box for these things." He walked back and found a spare cardboard box in the back while Prussia brushed the stray woodchips away.

"Oh!" He grinned as he lifted an armful of the heavy, velvety-black clothing. "These are my old riding cloaks!" He held one up and threw it on over his head. Rather than draping across the floor, though, it brushed the backs of his thighs.

"Riding cloaks?" Germany questioned.

"Ja! France and Spain would always go horseback riding with me back in the old days." Prussia pulled out two more, both having his friends' respective flags embroidered on the side. "And there's that coat." He took off the cloak and draped them over some boxes, then picked up a blue coat and pants, their dark fabric caked with years of dust. He put it on and buttoned it down. "It fits."

While Prussia busily adjusted the coat, making sure it fit, Germany reached over and grabbed a cloak. He held it out, and then an idea came to mind.

"Hey, Prussia?"

"Ja? What is it?"

"About the last full moon, the transformation didn't start until I was exposed to moonlight, right?"

"Err…Ja, I think so. Why do you ask?"

"I may have figured out how to get England to change us back." He gestured for his brother's phone again and messaged Japan and Italy.

"It's Germany texting. I think I know how to get England to cure us." Almost instantly, he got a reply.

"Sì? You do?"

"How so, Germany-san?"

"I'll explain it when I see you both again. Do you think both of you can meet me in London by the full moon?"

"I'll do my best," responded Japan.

"Same here," Italy added.

"Excellent, I'll see you there."

"So West…" Prussia began, "since we got that taken care of, when do you think you're going to take care of your hair?"

Germany now noticed the increased weight on his head and sighed.

"I'll go do that," he said. He walked back upstairs to fetch the scissors with Prussia following close behind.

* * *

 **Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait, but don't fret anymore! I'm back. Also, it's the one-year anniversary of this story!**

 **Updated 9/27/19**

 **(Beta-read by Syntax-N)**


	15. When plans begin brewing

England shot up from bed in the middle of the night. He hadn't had a single night of restful sleep in ages due to a constant stream of repeating nightmares, mainly of him being cursed and painfully transforming. However, this was different. Someone was watching him from the corner of his room, and he knew who it was.

"Romania, I know it's you. Just remind me about the bloody deal and then leave me alone," he grumbled.

"We are not Romania," the figure responded in an uncanny voice. It had the deep resonance of Germany's, but also musical squeak of Italy's speech mixed with Japan's softer accent. Three wolfish forms emerged from the corner and pounced, one of them tearing open the curtain that covered the moon. He shut his eyes and covered his face until he felt the weight of them diminish. Once he was sure he was awake, he jolted upwards, heart pounding from the sudden rush of adrenalin. He checked his surroundings and patted himself down.

"Nothing," he exhaled with relief, looking out the window and up at the nearly full moon.

It seemed to look down at him, leering at his situation, taunting him even. He got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom as best as he could without making a noise. As he splashed his face, he felt the presence of someone enter.

"Look, I know you're here, Romania, so just go!" He tore the shower curtain open, but no one was there. He brushed it off as a hallucination and flopped back into his bed. At that moment, the window swung open with a loud bang.

"I thought I locked it before I went to bed," he groaned and dragged himself out of bed to go shut the window. Before he could close it, however, Romania popped up in front and startled England enough that he lost his balance and fell onto the hardwood floor. "Why are you here!? I know about our deal, so can you not bug me anymore?"

"I'm not here about that. You and I both know that Germany just entered your land, and it won't be long until the Axis come for you."

"Well, then why did you come to tell me at…" He checked the clock on his mantle. "Three in the bloody morning!"

"Oh, well, you know that I have a vampiric side. Must I re—" England cut Romania off mid-sentence.

"Yes, I remember your curse, but Vlad deserves his fate."

Seemingly triggered by the remark, Romania flew closer and clutched the collar of England's nightshirt. His ruby eyes glowed menacingly in the dark.

"Don't you dare talk to him like that!" He snarled. "He was a brave warrior who defended my people!"

England didn't back down. "Then explain why he was cursed, and why it affects you it as well."

Romania stopped, not able to respond. He quickly regained his composure and continued.

"Anyway, I stopped by to drop this off." He tossed a vile of sickly green liquid towards England, who caught it and squinted at it.

"And what is this?"

"Something that one of my pals whipped up and tested last moon. Should be able to stun a werewolf for about an hour."

"But aren't they immune to stunning, sleeping, and paralyzing spells?"

"This one targets their senses. It overwhelms them until they can't take it anymore."

"I see. Anything else you want to tell me before you leave?"

"No, not that I can think of off the top of my head." Romania glanced behind himself before floating back out the window. "Just remember, you have three days before the full moon. Use them wisely."

He snapped his fingers. Smoke formed around his feet before it enveloped him and dissipated, taking him with it. England shut the window and closed the curtains, then crawled back into bed and threw the fluffy blankets over his head, drifting off into uneasy slumber.

* * *

The morning after Germany and Italy had arrived, Japan touched down in London. He yawned and grabbed his bags, then trudged out of the airport, trying his best to suppress the urge to scratch his entire body. Despite shaving several times before he left the house, his body hair continued to grow back faster and faster. He decided to leave it alone, even though his clothes rubbing against his skin reminded him of wearing an itchy wool sweater — one he couldn't take off. He stepped out into the frigid London air as his phone pinged with a message from Germany.

"I got a rental car, and I should be pulling into the airport soon. Look out for a medium-sized grey Ford."

As soon as he finished texting his reply, a car matching the description pulled up into the drive. Japan waved at the car, and it slowed down, pulling up beside the sidewalk. Germany rolled the window and opened the door.

"Germany-san," Japan greeted with a bow.

"Japan, it's good to see you again," Germany replied, brushing a few stray strands of hair back into his hoodie. He got out of the car, expecting Japan to need help with his large suitcase. Japan however, picked up his suitcase with ease and shoved it in the trunk before slamming it shut and leaving a few dents in the metal.

Once safely out of sight in the car, Germany cast off the stuffy hood and let his hair cascade down his back like a golden waterfall. Japan settled himself, doing his best to fight off the jet-lag. Unlike the previous transformation, which had mitigated the symptoms, this time it seemed to amplify its effects. Japan thankfully didn't have to worry about being flung around like he was with China, but he did have to keep an eye on his grip. After all, he didn't want to damage the car in any major way.

Once they arrived and got checked in, they made their way up to the room, where they were greeted by an overly hyper Italy.

"Oh Japan!" Italy ran up and gave him a hug. Japan froze. Sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere beginning to build up, Italy let go and bounced onto the bed.

"Well, since you're here, do you want to discuss the plan or wait until you've rested a bit?" Germany asked.

"Maybe after I get something stimulating."

Germany poured him a cup of steaming hot water from the electric teapot nearby, then handed him a package of instant coffee and several packs of sugar. As Japan mixed the drink, Germany started up the conversation.

"Since we're all here now, I can begin explaining how we may be able to get ourselves cured."

"Sì, I don't want to transform again! It was painful!" Italy shuddered, remembering the changes his body went through.

"My goal is for that not to happen, so I brought these." He got out his bag and dug around, taking out the cloaks which had been neatly folded.

"What are those?" Japan asked.

"Some of Prussia's old riding cloaks. From what I remember, the transformation didn't begin until direct moonlight hit us. So, if we can keep it off us, we could go out and not have to worry about spontaneously transforming in public," Germany explained while wrapping himself in one. He handed out the other two to Japan and Italy for them to try on. Since they were both shorter, their cloaks dragged on the floor. Other than that minor inconvenience, not a single patch of skin was visible.

"These cloaks are useful, Germany-san, but how are we going to cure ourselves?" Japan asked. "I cannot wear this every full moon." He gestured to the cloak wrapped around himself.

Italy pinched one of his elf-like ears. "And as much as I like these ears, they get itchy and sore whenever I hide them under a hat."

"France told me England has something that would get rid of this curse. A cure of sorts. The plan is to show up to his house at night and ask for it."

"And what happens if he doesn't want to?" Japan asked.

"We'll transform and scare him into giving it to us. Maybe threaten to bite him if he doesn't comply."

"I don't want to scare him! I know he cursed us, but can't we do it some other way?"

"I've ran through many scenarios on my way here, and I don't see it working any other way. If anything, he's the one who brought this upon himself."

"I see," Italy sighed as a gust of air brushed against his back. He froze. "Did someone leave a window open?"

Japan finished his drink and glanced over his shoulder at the dreary stained curtains, which didn't display any signs of wind.

"No, I don't think so," he answered.

"What is it Italy?" Germany asked.

"I-it feels like someone is watching us."

"I sense it too," Japan added. Right as he finished, the presence lifted. After a few moments, Italy broke the awkward silence.

"So, what are we going to do? I don't want to be cooped up in here for two days! Can we at least go out and see the city once before we have to leave?" He pulled the blinds aside and pointed to the faint outlines of London's skyline in the cloudy distance.

"I know that you want to go out, but this hair could attract attention." Germany stood up and walked across the room, displaying to the two countries that it had grown during their conversation. It was long enough that once he reached the other side of the room, the tips of his hair had only moved a few centimeters. Seeing the amount of hair in front of him prompted him to excuse himself to the restroom with a pair of scissors. A few minutes later, he emerged with a grip on the ponytail, stuffing it into a plastic bag before tying it off and chucking it into a nearby garbage bin.

"And," Japan yawned, "I'm tired and need to sleep."

"But didn't you just have a coffee?" Germany asked.

"H-hai, but it's not working." He stumbled to his feet, struggling to keep his eyes open as he made his way over to his bed. He barely managed to pull the fluffy covers over his head before he fell asleep. Not wanting to leave Italy in the room and potentially disturb Japan, Germany caved.

"We can go to the city if you desire, but we—" A gust of air brushed past his right side as Italy blazed out of the room at a supernatural speed. "—should make sure we won't draw any attention," he sighed before chasing Italy down the hall.

* * *

A few minutes before, Romania sat on the roof of a nearby building with his crystal ball on his lap. He had been there for a while after catching wind of the trio's movements. He listened intently to their conversation. Any information he could gather would be beneficial to both him and England. With notepad in hand, he recorded anything that caught his fancy, up until Italy froze.

"What the hell is he sensing now? Shouldn't that instinct fade away after the first transformation?" He wondered aloud.

"I-it feels like someone is watching us," Italy said. Romania ended the spell and packed his things, carefully placing the ball in a velvety drawstring bag.

"There's no way he could've sensed my magic. He expelled it all during his last transformation. Is it because he's a nation?" He questioned. "No, that couldn't be it. He's not England, after all." He shook his head. "I should go pester England later."

He sighed and stepped off the building, disappearing in a puff of reddish smoke.

* * *

 **Just in time for Halloween! (My favorite holiday!)**

 **(Beta-read by Syntax-N)**

 **Published 10/25/19**

 **Plagerizers will be cursed with rapidly growing hair! Reveiwers will have a Happy Halloween with lots of sweets!**


	16. Origins

The scents of dust and decay sat on Romania's shoulders as he walked toward the ornate door at the end of the old hall. He'd been down this particular part of the castle several times before and seen it change as technology improved over time. What was once a bare hall suited for withstanding the toughest of sieges now had paintings of his former bosses lining the walls. The floor now was covered in carpet, and a few chairs sat at opposite ends. Rows of torches provided the only light in the darkness, illuminating the hall and the portraits that extended until the door. Romania stopped at the first one and smiled. The torches crackled in the background.

"If only you were still around, Vlad. You'd be proud to see how much I've grown."

He rubbed the dust from the portrait's plaque between his fingers with disgust, then wiped it off with a handkerchief. The one who had single-handedly made an entire Turkish army flee due to fear of him! As Romania chuckled at the memory of an entire army of men running away like cowardly chickens, his mind jumped to the night that had started this culture of vampires. Despite it being well over five hundred years in the past, he could remember each detail of that fateful night.

* * *

January 1461, Wallachia

"Are you sure this is going to work, boss? And shouldn't we have England or Norway here before attempting to summon anything like a demon?" Romania asked as he lugged a keg of gunpowder to the top of a small hill and handed it off to other soldiers to be scattered on the ground. Vlad Dracula, his current boss, had built his reign on fear and bloodshed. He had recently acquired the nickname "The Impaler" for executing several high-ranking Ottoman officials with no remorse. Now he had only a few months to prepare before the Sultan's armies would march onto Wallachia. He turned his attention back to Romania, who had continued rambling about the current plan. "I wrote a letter to them about summoning rituals, and they both said if you mess up the spell, it could backfire, and the results could be…"

Vlad placed an arm on his shoulder.

"Relax, Romania, I've studied this spell for years and am well-aware of the risks. And with the power of a demon, we'd be able to rid this land of those Ottoman succubi!"

Vlad unclipped the clasps on his pouch and revealed a leather-bound book with yellowing pages. He had unearthed it within the vast Ottoman libraries during his time as a hostage and dedicated his life to studying it. It held many mysteries, some of which contained more questions than answers. What was clear, however, was that when using the book, no good would result. Romania felt uneasy whenever he saw it, and this time was no different. As Vlad flipped through the pages, Romania mustered up a weak protest.

"You've already slaughtered the nobles involved with your brother and father's deaths. Why would we need more power in a time of peace?"

"You have much to learn as a nation Romania, but here's one thing I've learned. Peace never lasts, and the Sultan won't take their deaths lightly. They will attack again, and with more force than before. We must be prepared to fight back with all we have," Vlad explained.

One of the soldiers approached him and nodded. Vlad nodded back and flipped to the page he needed. "Step back men! It's ready!" he shouted.

He spoke from the book, and twisted words were carried through the air by the chilly winter breeze. The wind licked the scattered gunpowder into the shape of a pentagram, which caught alight with ebony flames. Some of the men fled at the unnatural sight but suddenly found themselves unable to move due to sheer terror. Romania ducked behind Vlad, who grinned eagerly at the sight. A deep, deadly, reverberating voice spoke, sending shivers down the men's spines.

"What do you wish for?" the voice asked.

"I wish for the power to raise an army that will crush any other to exist," Vlad responded without showing the slightest hint of fear.

"And what will you give in return?"

Vlad smirked. "My loyalty and soul, and the souls of all who come under my ranks."

The flames swayed and twisted like the coils of a snake as Romania held his breath. If the demon were to reject the offer, he couldn't begin to imagine what wrath it would unleash upon him and his citizens. After a few more seconds passed by, the demon responded.

"Very well, your wish is granted."

The flames sputtered out, leaving the men alone in the dark with nothing but the wind howling in their ears. Vlad lit a torch, and the men gathered around with Romania right behind. Just as Vlad was about to address them, however, he froze in place. The group of men did so too.

"Boss?"

Romania walked up and shook his shoulder. Vlad clutched his throat and wheezed as he fell towards the earth, his skin bleached of color. Romania panicked and caught him before he hit his head, then watched as the men collapsed like flies, one by one. He placed two trembling fingers on Vlad's throat, but after searching for a pulse for several minutes, could not find it.

"Boss! You can't be dead! We still have Ottomans to battle, and without you, I'll fade like the Roman Empire!" Romania coughed and clutched his neck. He stepped back and collapsed to the ground. His throat burned like he hadn't drunk anything for many days. As he held himself up on shaking arms, he watched his skin pale to the shade of porcelain.

"I don't understand! The demon accepted Vlad's wish! Why is it doing this?" He wheezed and gasped, struggling to breathe. He collapsed on his side and peered up at the starry night sky.

'My people need me!' he screamed in his mind. He tensed as a strange numbing cold swept over his body and brought his pounding heart to a standstill. His chest burned as each breath he took festered in his throat. As the last bit of consciousness faded, he swore he could hear Vlad's muffled voice barking orders before he rose to his feet again, filled with newfound strength.

* * *

Romania shook himself out of his daze and glanced back up at the painting, but the torches caught his eye. They flared and darkened to a bloody crimson red and flickered back to normal within seconds.

"My magic must be acting up again." Romania extended his hand towards the nearest torch, but the flame stayed put. "At least this entire mess will all be solved in the next few days."

"Wh-what will be solved sir?"

The voice came from behind him. Romania jumped and turned to find one of the younger servants of the castle waiting for him. He didn't recognize the boy but noted that he bore a strong resemblance to Latvia.

"It… it's nothing." Romania readjusted his necktie and continued. "Who beckons me?"

"Báthory, sir. The court is in the midst of a quarrel, and she cannot hold her tongue much longer." A few shouts and loud thumps echoed down the hallway, and the servant flinched. "I do not know how long the lords can keep the lady waiting. Is the court always this violent?"

"It usually is. Nobles are always pissed about something. Pass it on that I am ready to address the court whenever she is." Romania sent the servant away. He returned a few short moments later and gestured for him to follow. As they approached the door, the servant piped up.

"Sir, are you nervous?"

"Nervous of what?" Romania asked, flashing a toothy grin. The servant shuddered.

"I-I mean sp-speaking to the court on your own. So many vampires have stood there, and some have met their end in that very room."

"I've addressed the court before, and I'm valuable to the lady. She and many others know that I am not an easy foe, and not one to be easily fooled."

"I see." The servant knocked on the door. It cracked open, and he whispered to the other servant before it shut again. A few minutes later, the door opened fully, and Romania stepped inside the court. It closed with a loud "thud" behind him. The hundreds of vampires making up the court turned their attention toward Romania, including Báthory, who sat in front of him surrounded completely by the nobles.

Romania cleared his throat and spoke with a grin.

"After many long and countless nights of preparation, I have finally decided to shed my rank as a fledgling and fully integrate into the vampire court."

The court erupted into chaos as some vampires cheered and others objected noisily.

"What will happen when the minister realizes Romania has left him? It will give him an excuse to exterminate us!" One of them hissed.

Another vampire stood and objected, hands sparking with magic. "The benefits far outweigh the risks! We'd have better control of the population and may be able to grow our ranks."

As the arguments grew heated, some of the nobles drew their weapons while others readied spells. Romania sighed and crossed his arms, waiting for the fighting to cease or Báthory to lose her patience — whichever came first. After a few minutes, a piercing shout from Báthory caught the court's attention. The bickering nobles grew silent.

"Enough! Let Romania answer your questions one by one. I will take any others."

She gestured for Romania to speak.

"Thank you," Romania said as he bowed his head. After a few moments of muttering, one of the older vampires spoke.

"The full moon is within the next night. Art thee sure thou art apt to battle a fully changèd lycan? coequal with thy immortality?"

Romania nodded and answered. "Yes, I am ready to fight a werewolf. Even with my immortality, it will still be a tough battle, but I have been preparing since well before the last moon."

"Is it fair to have you undergo such a ritual due to your immortality? Seems awfully unfair to me that you will make it out alive, while hundreds of others have perished in their attempts."

The court erupted into another argument as Báthory huffed and stood up, signaling for Romania to follow her through one of the side doors. Once they were out of sight, she spoke.

"You're finally starting to embrace your vampiric side. I can sense it." She gave him a firm pat on the back. "And now that it's official, one thing has been lingering in the back of my mind. Why did you fight your nature for so long?"

Romania's fangs lengthened enough that they brushed past his lower lip.

"I was a fool for rejecting it for so long. It merely caused me more pain than necessary. I grew sick of having to constantly live in two worlds and decided enough was enough."

"I see," Báthory said, clearly pleased with Romania's answer. "Now, before you go, tradition says that I must grant a boon to aid you." She walked down the hall and entered another room, then emerged a few moments later with a silver necklace. A bright red ruby sat in the center of the charm, surrounded by a cage of silver, woven together to resemble basketweave.

"What will this do?" Romania asked.

Báthory smiled. "This will give your magic a meager reserve in case of you grow tired in the middle of the fight. Here, let me put it on you," she said as she motioned for Romania to turn around.

"And why must I put it on now? I still have another day before I'll need it."

"Only for you to acclimate to it. I've known many vampires who've used it, but never a dhampir. I don't know of any… effects that it could have on your more human side, but it's better to err on the side of caution."

As soon as she fastened the clasp, Romania felt a rush of heat travel up his spine to his skull. His vision blurred and body swayed as his world spun around. He grabbed onto the stone wall and shut his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to fade. A sudden ache in his stomach caused him to lose his grip and slump to the floor, wrapping his arms around his torso. His throat grew parched and his tongue papery. His stomach growled, the ache turning to insatiable hunger. Romania staggered to his feet as Báthory stepped back and grinned. His pupils narrowed to pinpricks, and he hissed, baring his fangs. She revealed a small vial of blood from her sleeve and held it up. Romania snatched it and greedily gulped it down, reveling in its metal taste. The hunger faded, and he regained his senses. He wiped his mouth with his arm, out of breath, then noticed the stain on his sleeve.

"What exactly happened?" he asked, rubbing his temples. He noticed his fangs were aching, but it was on the back of his mind currently.

Báthory shook her head and sighed. "Bloodlust. I've seen it in the new vampires whenever they starve themselves to the brink of death. Have you been feeding regularly?"

"I've never needed to do so. Since my human citizens outnumber vampires, I've never felt the urge. Can I take this off?" He reached around to the back of the necklace where the clasp was. After realizing that the clasp was gone, he attempted to tug the necklace off and break the chain, but it would not budge.

"It won't. It's spelled. It will release when exposed to the blood of a werewolf," Bathory informed him. "Now, due to your little…" her eyes drifted to the blood on his sleeve," episode, I expect you to drink whenever you feel hunger begin to creep up on you. It seems you're turning even quicker, and that vial won't last you long. No solid food, as that will only make you sick. Understood?"

"Understood," Romania grumbled through clenched teeth. "Is that all, Lady Báthory?"

"Yes, you are excused to your chambers." Bathory flicked her wrist, and Romania turned on his heel and made his way to his room. As soon as he was out of earshot, another noble approached and Báthory whispered into his ear, "Tell the court to have the things I requested ready by sundown tomorrow."

"Yes milady." He bowed and left.

* * *

 **Well, it's certainly been a while since I've posted and I'm sorry. Most of my energy has been focused on my studies, but since I have some free time I decided to get another chapter done. Stay healthy everyone! Wash your hands! Get a hobby! Do some history research! Just don't go insane!**

 **(Beta-read by Syntax-N)**

 **Published on Sunday, March 29th, 2020**


End file.
